Provoked Too
by Adelled
Summary: Set after the series finale. What happens when the only decent man Mary's met returns to Albuquerque to stay?
1. Provo-ked Again

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

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Provoked Too– Chapter 1 – Provo-ked Again

The bar is dark, the floor gritty and the furniture sports a layer of cigarette tar that the cleaning crew barely dented despite the fact that The Dee Johnson Indoor Clean Air act passed in 2007. For some reason that bit of Marshall trivia had stuck with Mary. _And in this place I'm going to be sticking to the floor._

Mary stops beside the entrance, casing the joint. A woman can't be too careful in a dump like this, even one with a gun under her black leather jacket. The room is thinly populated by middle aged men serious about their mid-week drinking.

Where the hell is Davey? Mary saw her witness enter the bar, but he's nowhere in sight. She watches a dejected man shuffle up to the bar. He's typical of this bar's customers. There's Davey - coming from the bathroom. Mary's eyes narrow. Why does he have bills in his hand? What was he doing in that men's room? Interesting. It seems Davey knows the stranger at the bar. Davey buys beers for both of them. Davey isn't a treater. What's going on? Illegal betting? Drug transaction? With this nitwit anything's possible.

The door opens and a tall man with a military style haircut joins the two at the bar. Mary's brow wrinkles. She needs to hear what the men are saying. She sidles up to the bar getting the bartender's attention. She points to a bottle of beer and 'accidently' jostles her witness' hand. He turns and jerks when he sees her. "Hey Mary. Fancy meeting you here."

The tall man at the other end of the group smiles. He catches her eye and nods. Mary ignores him and focuses on the man with the money, her witness.

"Well hello there high roller. Where'd you get the cash? You are still sticking with the program?" Her rapid fire questions don't give him time to answer.

Davey stutters. "Sure, sure, of course I am. I. . . uh. . . the cash? I owe my buddy here. Davey stuffs the bills in the stranger's jacket pocket. The guy frowns but accepts the cash. "You know me, Mary. Straight arrow."

"Yeah," she drawls, "I know you." Mary stares at him. He scurries to get the bartender to take the few bills he has left and heads for the exit. "See you around, Davey." It's not a farewell, it's a promise.

"Uh, yeah. See ya." Davey replies as he looks over his shoulder and almost trips over his own feet as he hurries out the door.

The tall newcomer gets a beer, says a few words to the other man and hands him a business card. The man in the middle downs his beer and grunts. Mr. Military and Mary are left leaning at the bar. "Well this is a nice surprise. Guess I shouldn't ask what brings you to a place like this." He pitches his voice low so as not to be overheard.

"Lucas." She nods, acknowledging him. "You're right. You shouldn't ask but I can." He gestures toward an empty table in an alcove near the door. The chair scrapes as Lucas pulls it out for her. Mary swipes at the seat with a napkin.

Beer in hand Mary starts the conversation. "What brings you to Albuquerque?" Mary hadn't seen Lucas Provo since before Norah was born. "Wait, I've got a better question." He sips his beer, waiting. "What brings you to this part of town? These don't look like the kind of folks that you help."

Lucas sighs sadly. "I'm here because too many veterans end up here." He pulls a folded paper out of his jacket pocket. "I had 1,000 of these printed and posted." He hands it to her. "The guy you saw here tonight is my newest client."

The flyer announces legal aid for veterans. Which guy is his client? He can't mean Davey? Davey isn't a veteran. "There were two guys at the bar."

"You mean you missed the camo on the guy in-between your friend and myself? Were you so distracted by my handsome face that you didn't notice?" Lucas smiles ingratiatingly.

She snorts. "Yeah, right. I saw you pass him something, and it wasn't this." She flaps the flyer at him.

He fishes in his shirt pocket and hands Mary a business card. It's the right size and could be what he gave the stranger. "Lots of guys wear camo. It's the latest fashion statement," she says as she studies the card. "Attorney at Law? Since when? You left the military?" Mary looks up, studying his face.

Lucas takes a deep draught of his beer before answering. "About 6 months ago."

"But you loved what you were doing. Why leave?" If he can leave a job he claimed to love, a job that was a big part of who he is, maybe she could too. She still works hard, doing WITSEC to the best of her ability but the job doesn't have the appeal, the satisfaction it had when Marshall was her partner. Maybe it is time to move on. Bug isn't in school yet. The housing market is recovering. Time to go?

Lucas puts down his beer. "Remember when you asked me if helping others stirred up my own demons?" She remembers. "There was a case, a client." He grimaces and shakes his head. "It made me realize I didn't have to be in the military to help these men and women. And I was tired of jumping through bureaucratic hoops to do right by my clients. It was time."

"I hear ya." Mary responds with a tip of her beer.

"What about you. You still doing the same job?" Her silence is answer enough. "What about," he looks down and gestures toward her abdomen. The last time Lucas Provo, then JAG lawyer, had seen Mary she was in the home stretch of her pregnancy.

Mary smiles, a real smile. "Norah is eight months old. I'm still figuring out how to juggle her and the job." She grimaces as she realizes she gave up a personal detail that is none of his business.

"Ah. Pictures?" Mary looks at him quizzically. "Of Norah," he elucidates.

Mary never lets her witnesses know about any of her family. She's never done the proud mommy show and tell. "Uh no. No pictures. Hazards of the job and all." She shrugs pretending not to be affected by his request.

He cocks one eyebrow and grins. "Bet she's a real cutie like her mom."

Mary ducks her head, uncomfortable accepting compliments. "I'm still lugging some baby weight."

Lucas rubs his chin. "You lookin' for a workout partner? I haven't found a gym yet."

"Black Box," Mary says then sips her beer.

"Excuse me?"

Mary chuckles. "It's a gym. It has great equipment, well maintained. It doesn't have a track but there are good running paths in the parks."

"So do you train there?"

Mary drops her head and sighs. "I need to. I've been twice since Norah was born."

"Hey," he looks into her eyes. "Don't beat yourself up. Giving birth makes huge demands on your body. If I joined Black Box would you show me the ropes?"

She raises one eyebrow. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

Lucas chuckles. "I mean the gym and only the gym." He looks at her expectantly.

"Okay." Mary sighs. Maybe this is just the nudge she needs to get back to fighting trim. What the hell? Why not? "How about tomorrow? I've put this off long enough."

"What time?" He wonders but doesn't ask where Norah will be while they work out. No need to piss Mary off by prying into her private life.

"I'll meet you there at 9 AM." She groans. "That's too damn early but it gets crowded later."

"Here's my number. Text me the address and I will see you there."

Mary tilts her head and squints at him. "You sure you want to do this?"

"I'm sure." He nods. He's sure. Mary is one of the reasons he came to Albuquerque.


	2. Devil in the Details

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

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Chapter 2 – Devil in the Details

Chief Inspector Marshall Mann was having a bad day. His first quarterly report as Chief is due and there were still several numbers missing. Finding them meant digging through a ton of documents. Tedious and time consuming, but Stan stressed it was necessary. Stan also said he could file an amended report if new figures come to light but Marshall's determined to submit his first formal filing as the new Chief Inspector of Albuquerque WITSEC complete and on time.

He stretches his neck to relieve the tension and catches sight of Mary bouncing into the office. He's instantly on alert. Since returning from maternity leave she dragged herself into work tired and whiny spreading grief to one and all. Today she's smiling. WTF? She stops at her desk, throws her arms wide and inhales deeply. "I love the smell of toner in the morning."

"That's not toner," Delia protests. "That's coffee. You want a cup?"

"Pass. I actually got 8 hours of sleep two nights in a row. Amazing what a difference that makes. I don't need coffee to stay awake today," she announces to the entire office.

Marshall wonders what she means then realizes that Norah must have slept through the night. Mary never talks to him about the baby. He hasn't even gotten a glimpse of Norah since Stan left. Mary must have gotten her child care situation resolved. _Who does she trust to take care of Norah?_ There was a time when he would have known. Hell he would have helped her find the nanny. Marshall sighs and goes back to searching for the elusive statistics.

Weeks pass and Mary's good mood – well good for Mary – continues. The weather has turned warm. When Mary blows into the office, late as usual, Marshall watches her closely. He intends to rebuke her for being late. Instead he finds himself staring at the way her tank top fits. Somehow, when he wasn't looking she had dropped the baby weight and then some. Her biceps are firm, defined. Her chest, breasts, uh . . . he'd better not go there. When did that happen?

He goes to the break room, gets coffee and stops at Mary's desk. "May I speak with you in my office Inspector Shannon?"

Mary gives him her WTF look but nods, and quickly blanks her expression into one appropriate for her boss. "Sure thing Chief."

"Sit down Mary."

Mary perches on the edge of the chair, clearly uncomfortable.

She frowns at his use of her first name. "What is this about Chief?"

"Your annual PFTB." She gives him her what-language-you-speak look. "The physical fitness test battery," he explains.

In years gone by Mary would have called it the Poor Fools Totally Barf. Marshall expects sarcasm but when he doesn't get it he leans back in his chair. "Are you ready? Might as well get it over with for this year."

Mary has her elbows on her knees, hands together. She catches Marshall's eye. "Yeah, sure, why not. When? Can I do it on a weekend? Or can you schedule a lull in witness emergencies?"

Marshall coughs. "I'll see if a weekend test can be arranged. Is there any date you can't get to the test center?"

Mary tilts her head back, examining the ceiling. "No, nope. I need to get rid of this baby fat anyway. I should be able to take the test any time, if I have a couple of days warning."

"All right. I'll check and let you know."

Mary stands. "Is that it? Are we done?"

Marshall gives her a watery grin. "There's one other thing. Abigail and I are having a get together at our place on Friday. We'd like you to come."

He watches Mary's face go from shock to anger to – is that panic? "Uh, I don't think that's a good idea, Chief. Norah is my priority these days. I try to spend as much time with her as I can." She catches his eye. "You understand, right? Babies are little for such a short time. I don't want to miss any more than I have to."

Her hand is on the doorknob when Marshall says, "Bring her."

"What?" She whirls back to him.

"Bring Norah to the party. Everyone would enjoy seeing her." He really wants to see her but he knows better than to make it personal.

Mary considers for a New York minute. "Sorry Chief. Strangers mean germs. If she gets sick I'll have to be out, and you know even Delia's not up to date on my witnesses." She bites her lips. "Tell Abigail thanks for the invite though." She escapes from his office as if the fires of hell were after her.

It kills him to have her call him Chief, never Marshall. After the damned talk on the balcony when he asked her to release him everything changed. He became Chief. Mary, his best friend who had dumped her family troubles on him year after year never talks about them. She only talks about her witnesses.

Mary takes the PFTB and scores better than ever. _Baby fat my ass_ , Marshall muses. He doesn't need the % of body fat measurement to tell him she's lean and still mean. She ran the 1.5 miles in ten minutes, did 23 pushups and 40 sit-ups well short of the allotted time. Something changed in Mary's world. Something besides Norah.

If Mary's going to be so damn standoffish she's just going to have to take the consequences. Marshall calls a staff meeting on a day when all the Inspectors are there. Only life threatening excuses accepted.

The table in the conference room has two boxes with Danish and pastries. Everyone brought their coffee. Marshall stands at the head of the table. "Help yourself." He gestures to the boxes. When everyone's mouth is full of fried dough the room falls quiet. Except for Mary who's humming a marching cadence. Marshall clears his throat and she stops.

"As you know the quarterly report has been submitted and I want to thank all of you who gathered the data for this important benchmark for this office." Mary is sitting with one elbow on the table, winding her hair around a finger. "In the future, each of you will be responsible for a specific area of the report. While I will be doing the overall composition, I will be relying on you to do your part. This team effort will ensure the accuracy and timeliness of the report."

Marshall gives Mary an odd look when she raises her hand. _When did this become grade school?_ "Chief, who's doing what?"

"Good question, Inspector. Assignments will be handed out next week. The quarterly report deals with how the witnesses are doing, threat analyses, testimony dates and such. The bulk of it is financial – expenditures and the justification for them." Marshall hadn't even considered having Mary do any of it. Maybe witness retention? She always seems to know when a witness screws up.

"Any other questions?" This is the first meeting and everyone is testing the waters trying to figure out what it really means. "I'll be holding regular monthly staff meetings." Mary looks down the table trying to figure out who groaned. "This way we all know what issues and challenges are being handled. I expect everyone to contribute. You never know when another Inspector might have information about a threat to your witness. We need to work together to keep our witnesses and each other safe."

When it was just him, Mary and Stan they all knew what was going on. That's not exactly true. Marshall now knew Stan shielded them from a lot of political infighting. He and Mary often kept Stan in the dark about the measures they took to settle their witnesses.

Heads nod, but no one says a word. Marshall coughs into his hand hiding a smile. "Inspector Shannon. Please stand."

Mary hesitates trying to figure out what sort of hell Marshall has in store for her. It would be just like old times for him to embarrass her in front of her peers. She stands and looks at the other marshals trying to see if any of them is in on the joke.

"Inspector Shannon has completed her annual PFTB with scores of Excellent in all categories. Please give her a round of applause."

Marshall had no idea Mary could blush, and is sorry he asked for applause. Were Delia and Charlie the only two to clap?

"Can you give the rest of us the benefit of your experience?" Marshall sits and gives her the floor.

Mary glares at him.

"Tell us how you did it." _That isn't too much to ask, is it? What's the matter with her?_

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, fiddles with her jacket pockets and swallows. Taking a deep breath, she stands tall and looks straight ahead. "I've been doing TACFIT. It gets you in shape without a huge time commitment. Just keep at it and you can do it too. Even better than me." She sits down and glares at Marshall. How dare he single her out?

Ah, Marshall thinks. So that's Mary's secret. They used to go running together and Marshall always had to cajole her until her competitive streak took hold. How did she do this on her own?

"Thank you, Inspector Shannon. Now are there any issues any of you would like to raise? This is not meant as punishment or a demonstration of weakness. I want to know what's going on. If there's something you'd rather not raise in this forum, my office door is always open.

Actually, Mary thinks, it's always closed. She tries not to look at Marshall in his glass fish bowl. When he's not frantically trying to fill Stan's shoes he looks lonely, sad and trapped.

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A/N: Thank you Jarlsgirl, shellebelle1, Jojo78 and Meg for reviewing or following this story. The PFTB is a real.


	3. Dealing with Delia

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

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Provoked Too– Chapter 3 – Dealing with Delia

Marshall is determined to find out what changed in Mary's life. Her job performance is as good as when they were partners. She's keeping up with her witnesses and all the reports. Is Norah the reason for her positive attitude? This requires sleuthing, and there's no better source than Mary's partner, Delia. There's got to be a way to get the water cooler to spill without making it obvious.

A few days later on a quiet sunny afternoon, Delia and Marshal are just about the only two in the office. Marshall's in need of coffee and meanders out. "Can I get you coffee Inspector?"

"No, thanks Chief. I'm set." She watches Marshall's back wondering what's going on. He hasn't said two words to her in weeks, and now he's offering to get her coffee? She looks around the office. There's no one close enough to notice his unusual behavior.

Marshall returns to Delia's desk, his old desk, and sips his coffee. "It's been a while since the office was so quiet."

Delia leans her chair back and stretches. "Yeah those Phoenix marshals are finally beyond the hand holding stage." She sighs. "About damn time." She watches Marshall carefully. "Ah Chief?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I tell you something? Off the record?"

Marshall had been hoping for an opening to discuss Mary, but this wasn't it. "Sure."

Delia's gaze is direct. "You know you embarrassed the hell out of Mary making her stand up in front of everyone at the staff meeting."

"That wasn't my intention," Marshall protests raising his cup to hide his disappointment. If they were still friends he would have known how she'd gotten in shape. He'd have known about TACFIT. He just wanted to reward her superior performance. Didn't he?

Delia raises an eyebrow. She has her own doubts about his motive. "Mary is a damn good Inspector. I've learned a lot from her. The rest of these bozos could learn a thing or two but they're too busy hating her guts."

"They hate her?" Marshall's voice registers his disbelief. "Why would they hate her? Mary can be abrasive and sarcastic but she knows what she's doing. She has more experience with more witnesses than anyone else in the office." Anyone besides him.

"Well not everyone," Delia concedes. "Charlie doesn't hate her. The rest of them do though."

"Why?" Mary does have a talent for pissing people off but she usually has a good reason. Has she managed to piss off _all_ the other Inspectors? Or do they just not know her? She's not an easy person to know.

Delia lowers her head and looks out of the top of her eyes. She checks to make sure no one is paying attention. "Remember that 'discussion' she had with Caldwell?"

Yes, he does. Caldwell had screwed up almost placing Mary's former witness in an apartment building where a hit man lived. A hit man sometimes employed by the very man the witness is testifying against.

"After that he started – not so much spreading rumors, more like casting aspersions. He'd say things like 'Everyone knows about the Chief and Mary.' See what I mean? He leaves it to their imaginations. And unfortunately, they've been doing a **lot** of imagining."

"What do you mean?" Marshall splutters. "Do they think I'm giving her preferential treatment? I treat her the same as everyone else." They had been partners and nothing else for years. He tried to make it something more. He finally decided she didn't want what he wanted. With his chance for love and a family slipping away, he patched his broken heart and found Abigail.

Delia gives him her do-I-have-to-spell-it-out-for-you look then decides she does. She looks around again to make sure no one is listening then whispers, "There are rumors that you and Mary have been boinking like bunnies for years."

Marshall's head drooped and his shoulders slumped sadly. This rumor had been going around for so long even he had heard it, many times. Every male/female team seemed to suffer the same accusation, especially when your partner is a hot blonde with curves in all the right places. How ironic, how devastatingly stupid that he would be accused of something he had desired but never done.

Delia holds up her hands in surrender. "Not me. I know better."

He perches on the corner of Delia's desk. "Mary doesn't even speak to me anymore. How do they explain that?"

"A lover's spat," Delia replies promptly.

"Damn long spat!" Marshall grumbles. "How do they explain Norah? What about Abigail, our engagement?"

Delia shrugs. "Some say Norah is yours and that Abigail is willing to cover for you."

"That makes no sense at all," Marshall scoffed. "I've only seen Norah once this year. Abigail and I are planning our wedding for god sake. How could they miss that?"

"Chief? How many photos of Abigail do you have in your office?" Marshall thinks it's an odd question but easily answered.

"I have our engagement photo framed and hanging on the wall for all to see," Marshall states proudly.

"What photos do you have on your desk for **you** to see?" Marshall has had a small photo of Mary and Norah on the corner of his desk since Norah was born. He used to have one of him and Mary but he took it down when he got engaged.

"Do you see what I'm getting at?" Delia whispers.

Marshall shakes his head sadly. "It still doesn't make any sense."

"Of course it doesn't. People believe what they want to believe. Caldwell doesn't even believe what he did was wrong and stupid. It's easier for him to blame you and Mary."

Marshall pushes himself off Delia's desk ready to return to his office to think about combating the stupid rumors when Delia coughs. "There's more, isn't there?"

"Uhuh. There's your professional reputations."

After a pause to make sure he's listening, Delia continues. "You and Mary retained more witnesses, brought more witnesses to testify successfully than any other Inspectors. So" she holds up one finger, "professional jealousy. Then there's the fact that Mary's sister was indicted for murder and drugs." Delia raises her hands again holding off Marshall's protests. "Yes, they know the charges were dropped, but no one seems to know the whole story." She holds up a second finger. "Then Mary was kidnapped." A third finger. "And then she survives a gang shooting?" That's four. "She's got quite a reputation Chief, a larger than life reputation. Hard to live up to. Even harder to live down."

The professional jealousy he can understand. The other things just happened. "Mary never talks about any of that. How do they even know? It's not like she pretends to be Miss Congeniality flitting from Inspector to Inspector sharing her life story." _That's Abigail's style._ Marshall frowns disheartened. "Her accomplishments should be admired, emulated. I never thought they'd be seen like that."

Delia concentrates on her coffee. "Of course you didn't. You're too close."

Marshall sits back down on the edge of her desk, despondent. "Not anymore." He stares into his own coffee. "All I wanted to do was acknowledge her success, and encourage the rest of you to do likewise."

"Yeah well rubbing our noses in it isn't as motivating as you seem to think." Oh God. Of course not. He never appreciated his father praising his brother's football victories or wrestling awards. Marshall drops his head chagrined. "I'm sorry Delia. Thank you for your honesty."

"Pssht. It's okay. We're adults. Well most of us. You'll figure it out. I like the idea of contributing to the quarterly report. Knowing what's going on in the office helps me understand where we fit in the department."

Marshall grins. "And gathering data for the quarterly report gives you say so in protecting your job?"

Delia smirks. "Yeah, there is that."

They sit in silence. Delia is waiting for him to go back into his office. "You know what I can't figure out?" Marshall asks.

Delia quirks an eyebrow sipping her coffee.

"How in the hell did Mary get in shape so fast after Norah? I know she said TACFIT, but Mary isn't disciplined enough to stick to any exercise regimen. She came back to work with some baby weight, then two months later she's bounding in full of energy. And when she takes the PFTB she not only betters her scores from last year, she did better than anyone else in this office. What gives?"

Delia swivels in her chair, holding her cup in both hands. "Maybe it's not my place to say, and Mary hasn't told me anything straight out, but I think," her voice takes on a knowing lilt, "it's the new man in her life."

Marshall blinks. "You mean Kenny?"

"Pfftt." She waves her hand dismissing the idea. "Please. He's old news."

He leans toward Delia. "So who's the new news?" Mary hasn't had a romantic relationship since Raphael. Marshall has known Mary for almost a decade, but their relationship doesn't count, he doesn't count. Not romantically.

Delia stops swiveling and faces Marshall, deciding how much to say. "Look, I've heard her arranging to meet someone at the gym. I get the feeling he's new to Albuquerque because I also heard her telling him about running trails, grocery stores even the balloon festival. And yes, it's definitely a him."

This is disturbing news. Mary has the worst taste in men. "You've never seen him?"

"Nope. And it wasn't for lack of trying. I even followed her to that crappy bar once. She was checking up on a witness," Delia comments disgusted. "I did see her talking to a nice-looking guy, not Halfway's usual clientele. I also saw him talking to her witness. Davey vamoosed as soon as he saw Mary but she and Mr. Good Lookin' were still chatting when I made myself scarce." She gives Marshall a knowing look. "It isn't the kind of place a single woman should linger."

Marshall nods. He knows about that dive and feels uneasy that Mary was there. "I take it you didn't recognize the guy. What does he look like?" He should run a background check. After all the safety of his Inspectors is concomitant with the safety of their witnesses. Or so Marshall tells himself.

"He had the posture and buzz cut of a soldier. I haven't seen him around before. I couldn't tell what he wanted with Davey either, but Mary didn't seem concerned."

Marshall stares off into space. First he gets accused of being Mary's lover now Mary has a man in her life? Mary and Norah have a man in their lives. Norah has a father figure besides Mark. The whole thing made him queasy, then angry. Was she talking to someone about a witness? It wouldn't be the first time she ran counter to WITSEC regulations.

Delia takes pity on him and tries to pull him out of his funk. "How are things with you and Abigail?"

"Uh, fine." He says, distracted.

Delia expects him to elaborate – to talk about cutesy things he had done for Abigail. "You know this isn't fair. Here we are dissecting Mary's life and I never hear what's going on with you. How are the wedding plans coming? Last I heard you were meeting with the minister."

Marshall stands and glares over the top of his coffee cup. "I am your boss," he intones in a Darth Vader voice. Then he relents and sighs. "We couldn't get the date we wanted for the reception hall. Abigail has her heart set on the place for a spring wedding. We'll have to wait almost a year to get both."

"That's rough. I'm sorry Chief."

"Maybe it's better this way. Gives me more time to get you all whipped into shape so I can take a month's honeymoon without the office falling apart." The joke falls flat because everyone knows Washington is looking to close WITSEC offices.

Delia pretends to laugh. "You know, when you first became Chief you were a lot more personable. You are allowed out of your cage you know."

"Umm thanks Delia. I'll think about that. I've been concentrating on the administrative end of the job and neglecting the troops. That's one of the reasons I held that staff meeting." He smiles and she knows he means it.

Mary cards herself into the office and her eyes narrow as she takes in the water cooler talking to the Chief. That combination never bodes well. Who have they been gossiping about? It better not be her.

"Hey Mary," Marshall walks over to her desk. "How did things go with Caldwell?" After she reamed Caldwell out Marshall had sent them both to Shelley Finkel to work out their differences.

Mary sets her bag down and burrows to find her phone. She holds up one finger and Marshall realizes she just got a call.

"This is Mary."

"Uh yeah Phil, that's right. If you want to send a letter to anyone from your old life, the Marshal Service can do it so it can't be traced back to you. Who did you want to write?"

There's a pause.

"Uh Phil? Do you really think that's a good idea? I know you were best buddies but you do remember what Barney said? If he had to choose between you or Mostocci, he would choose Mostocci every time. You understand what that means?" She waits for a response. "It means you'd be dead."

Another pause.

"You could do that. Just don't use anyone's real name." Mary's silent again. "Sure, I'd love to see them. It might do you good to get it out of your system. If anyone asks tell them you're taking a creative writing class."

Silence.

"You are? So there ya go. Just be careful not to use details that could be traced back to your old life."

Silence.

"Change 'em up. Make black white, make an old brick building a modern cement one, make a big city a small one. That kind of thing. Use your imagination. Be creative! Isn't that why you're taking the class?"

After a moment spent listening, Mary hangs up and throws the phone on her desk.

"Phil Corwin?" Marshall moves toward Mary.

"Yeah. Every year around this time his separation anxiety kicks in. He hasn't done anything stupid yet."

"At least he calls so you can talk him out of it." Mary isn't known for her tact but she definitely gets through to her witnesses.

Mary's still standing unpacking her bag. She mutters, "He'd damn well better."

"Mary?"

Mary frowns at his use of her first name. She released him dammit. He needs to release her. Maybe it's time she told him.

"Chief" she says quietly. "It's Inspector Shannon, remember? If I have to play by your rules, so do you."

"It's not a rule! You don't have to call me Chief. We're friends." This is exactly what he wanted to talk to her about. Just not in the middle of the office.

She glances up from her bag. "Are we?"

"Of course we are. You don't walk away from a decade of friendship." Marshall's sure that's true for him. Isn't it true for her?

Mary stares at him. He just doesn't get it. Okay, time for some tough love.

"Chief, when you asked me to 'release' you it meant _you_ had to 'release' _me_." She watches him carefully. "You do get that, don't you?"

"No! Maintaining professional decorum at the office is one thing, but outside of the office, we aren't Chief and Inspector. We're friends," Marshall insists.

Mary sits down, boots up her computer and opens one of the files she just unpacked. She starts typing without looking at him. "There is no outside the office Chief. Get it now?"

Marshall runs his fingers through his hair. "Dammit Mare. It doesn't have to be that way."

Mary's eyes flick between the screen and the file. "Oh hell yes it does. Just ask Abigail."

Heedless of Delia's eavesdropping Marshall retorts, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Mary sucks on her lower lip, runs her finger over a line in the document and continues typing.

Marshall gives up and retreats to his office. He sits down and gets out his phone. "Reservations please. Yes, for two at 7:00? Thank you."

"Hi Abby. No, no emergency. Can you get out early today? You can? Good, good. I made reservations for 7:00 at Antiquity. You deserve to be pampered and I love to pamper you. Uh huh." He ends the call with their usual smoochy saccharin farewell. Now all he has to do is figure out how to get Abigail to tell him why Mary says she can't be his friend.

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A/N: Thanks to all who are following this story. I'd love to hear what you think of it.


	4. Dine and Dash

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

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Provoked Too– Chapter 4 – Dine and Dash

 **Antiquity Restaurant, 7:00 PM**

Despite being a week night, the restaurant was comfortably crowded. The dark wood paneling and subdued lighting gave the place just the romantic air Marshall wanted. Once they were seated in one of the high-backed booths, he ordered Abigail's favorite wine before she could ask earning him a big smile. They sipped in silence decompressing from the day.

"How was your day?" he asks cordially. There's a lot he wants to talk about so it's only fair he listen to her first.

"Frustrating," she admits. "The task force has seen a flood of weapons come into the city. They think they are going to one guy but we can't tell where they are delivered. They must be coming through El Paso," she takes a sip. "After all it's a straight shot up the I25 to Albuquerque. The Border Patrol follows the trucks but so far the trucks hit the city and disappear."

"You're a damn good detective. You'll figure it out. You always do." Marshall reaches his hand across the table to take her hand. In case that doesn't work he orders another glass of wine.

"Not always," she confesses frustrated. "The thing is I know who's running this operation but I can't catch him in the act!" This is not the way he wanted their evening to go. She should be relaxed, confident, open.

The waiter takes their orders for the filet. Abigail says it's silly to order anything else since this is Albuquerque's premier steakhouse. Marshall thinks that if Mary wasn't so damn cheap she'd love their ribs.

Salads proceed to entrees and Abigail excuses herself to find the restroom. Marshall considers how to broach the real reason he wanted to go to dinner tonight. Why does Mary say they can't be friends? Why did she tell him to ask Abigail?

Abigail returns to the table bemused. "What's with that twinkle in your eye? I hope you aren't shopping for a new fiancé."

She smiles and shakes her head. "No, you're it for me Honeybunch." Marshall raises a questioning eyebrow. "It's Mary."

What? Although it is a restaurant where a woman could comfortably dine alone he would never expect to see Mary here. Abigail takes a sip of wine and confides with a cheery smile, "She's on a date!"

Wait? This must be the man Delia mentioned. "Dammit." Marshall mutters. "She's too busy with Norah to come to dinner at our house, but she has time to date?"

"Maybe he's a relative?" Abigail says, for once giving Mary the benefit of the doubt.

Marshall shakes his head. "She doesn't have any male relatives." _Not live ones._ He lifts his wine then sets it down, angry. "I invited her to our next soiree and even told her to bring Norah but she refused because she didn't want Noah to be _exposed_ to germs." He snorts. "Who does she think we are? Typhoid Mary?"

Abigail titters. "No Sugarbritches. That would be her!"

"She also said that we can't be friends outside of work. She wouldn't explain and told me to ask you."

"Ask me what Sugarbritches?"

Marshall sighs. It takes all his will power not go looking for Mary to demand that she explain herself. That and to check out her _date_. "You know I asked Mary to release me so that I could concentrate on us."

Abigail nods, but looks wary. She already knows this.

"Mary said that if she released me it meant that we can't be friends outside of work."

Abigail purses her lips. "You can be friends but there's only 24 hours in a day. When you're not working **we** have things to do. You're still friends at work, right?"

Marshall shakes his head. "No. Not really. I'm Chief. She's Inspector." _And never the twain shall meet._

"Look, it's not our fault that Mary doesn't want to attend any of our parties. Maybe when we have children she'll feel more comfortable about bringing Norah. I admit, I'm miffed that she refuses our invitations but none of our friends have kids so I can understand why she'd hesitate. After all it's not as if our place is baby proofed."

Abigail catches the waiter's eye and taps her wine glass. Marshall tries to remember how many glasses of wine Abigail has had. Maybe she's not as okay discussing Mary as he thought. Marshall feels the need for something stronger but since he drove, it had better wait till he gets home.

"Excuse me, Sweetheart." He smiles and winks. "Even though my bladder has five times the capacity of yours. . . there comes a time" he trails off and skootches out of the booth. He walks to the restroom looking straight ahead, but aware of everyone and everything in his peripheral vision. There! Mary's sitting, relaxed, beer in hand, a pile of rib remains on her plate. He can't see who she's with but he will eyeball the guy on his way back.

He doesn't really need the facilities so he washes his hands and strolls slowly past Mary's booth. She's laughing so hard her eyes are closed and she doesn't see him! He finds a spot out of her line of sight where he can pretend to check his phone. He closes his eyes and concentrates on the glimpse he got of her date. He's tall, with impressive deltoids and pecs and a buzz cut. Buzz cut? Maybe military? This has to be the guy Delia saw. How does this guy know Davey? He groans. What did Mary do now?

There was that JAG lawyer who is indirectly responsible for his and Abigail's current abode. What's he doing in town? There aren't any new military witnesses. What is he doing with Mary? And why is Mary laughing? He's never heard her laugh like that. How much has **she** had to drink?

Marshall can pick out Mary's voice even in this crowd. "Have you ever worn a dress?" he hears her ask. She giggles. "My partner did. He's got great legs but he's too bony to pass as a woman." He doesn't hear her date's comment, but he does hear her belly laugh. "No, nothing like that. It was a sort of costume party with karaoke." He must have asked what she wore because the next thing he hears is "I wore my Glocks. That's all a girl needs." He hasn't even told Abigail that story. But it's the image of Mary wearing only her Glocks that sticks. He attempts to banish it with righteous anger. Why was Provo with Davey? Did Mary break protocol again? Inspector Shannon and I are going to have a tête-à-tête in his office first thing tomorrow!

On the way back to his table Marshall decides that although the professional dressing down needs to wait he and Abigail can confront Mary about ignoring their invitations. Mary doesn't have time for them? Time to call her on that.

Abigail's toying with the dessert menu when he asks, "Do you want something for dessert hon?" She looks up, uncertain. "I think you're sweet enough," he whispers, "we can have _dessert_ when we get home."

Abigail titters. "Sounds good to me Honeybunch." She knows that smile.

Marshall gets the check, signs the bill and shepherds Abigail towards Mary's table. "This isn't the way out," she observes.

"I know darling." He grits his teeth and lies like a rug. "I thought we should say hello to Mary."

He can tell by the gleam in Abby's eye that she is ready to wrangle. She's as incensed as he is by Mary's continued refusal to socialize with them.

"Mary, fancy seeing you here." _You go tiger! Mary doesn't belong here._ Mary's eyes are mere slits, but then her smile becomes friendly, deadly.

"Marshall," Lucas extends his hand. "Sit down. After you introduce me."

"Abigail, this is Lucas Provo, JAG lawyer."

Lucas digs in his shirt pocket. "Not anymore." He hands Marshall his business card. "I've set up shop in Albuquerque."

"This is Abigail Chaffee, my fiancée."

"Detective Abigail Chaffee, ABQPD," she amends offering her own hand to Lucas. Then Abigail plants herself on the bench next to Mary. Marshall touches her shoulder trying to warn her. Mary doesn't like anyone intruding in her space, but Abigail either doesn't notice or doesn't care. Much to Marshall's surprise there's no explosion of expletives from Mary. Maybe she's drunk? Marshall stands ready to defend his fiancée.

"How's Oscar?" Mary asks. Marshall relaxes. A safe topic. Abigail regales her with tales of the pup's antics and Marshall becomes aware that Lucas is talking to him.

"Oscar?" Lucas wonders if there's another man in Mary's life.

Marshall is pleased that Lucas flinched at the name. "Our dog. Mary dog-sat him for a while."

Marshall notes that Lucas is relieved by that bit of information. "Can I order something for you and. . . . "

"Abigail, my fiancée," Marshall reiterates wanting to make sure Provo gets the message.

Lucas rolls his head back and hmmms. "That explains it."

"Explains what?" Marshall asks crossly. It's bad enough that Mary is on a date, she's on a date with one of the few decent guys she's met. Someone Marshall should approve of.

"Explains why she gave me a shot." Lucas confides blithely.

Marshall pretends he doesn't understand. After a sip of beer Lucas says "I came here because I liked the town, liked the weather, the mountains, the desert. I also liked Mary and hoped to see her. The gods smiled, and I did. And here we are." Lucas looks inordinately pleased. Marshall is equally displeased.

Mary and Abigail continue to chat. Marshall relents and sits down next to Lucas and whispers. "I don't understand. What has my engagement to do with you dating Mary?"

Lucas gives him a knowing look. "You're off the market, taken, unavailable, engaged for God's sake."

Marshall wonders aloud. "So she's dating you because . . . ."

"She can't date you." Lucas finishes the sentence confidently.

"But we're friends," he whispers hoarsely. "We **were** partners. We **never** dated."

Lucas tilts his head back. "Ah yes. She told me you're her boss now. That's awkward."

"Not for Mary," Marshall grumbles.

"She drew a line in the sand?" Lucas concludes.

"Something like that. I only see her at work," Marshall admits.

"You both have other things to occupy your free time. Mary has Norah and me." His eyes twinkle as he shrugs. "You have Abigail and Oscar."

It seems to Marshall that Lucas got the better deal. Marshall is desperate to change the subject before Abigail or Mary hear what he and Lucas are discussing. "You're in great shape. Where do you work out?"

"Mary introduced me to her gym. We get there a couple of times a week."

"Aha," Marshall smiles - one mystery solved. "You're the reason she did so well on her fitness test!"

Lucas shakes his head. "No, no. That was all Mary. I did introduce her to TACFIT, but she took to it like a duck to water. It doesn't hurt that she's **a competitive bitch**." He says the last words louder making sure Mary hears.

Marshall grimaces when a foot connects with his shin then Mary protests blandly, "Just who are you calling a bitch?"

Lucas rolls his eyes innocently. Marshall reaches down to rub his shin. Mary's eyes follow his hand. "Did I kick you Chief. I'm sorry." Her apology is sincere but she tells Abigail. "That shoots my performance evaluation all to hell."

Marshall catches Abigail's eye. Time to go. "It was nice seeing you Lucas. We have to go feed Oscar before he destroys another pair of my boots."

"It's the salt," Lucas says.

"Excuse me?" Marshall inquires.

Lucas obliges. "Your body excretes salt. It soaks into the leather and becomes quite the doggie taste treat."

"Now how did you miss that factoid, Mr. Trivia?" Mary teases. She's seldom seen Marshall beaten at his own game.

Abigail takes Marshall's outstretched hand and stands. "Good night."

"I knew that," he murmurs to Abigail as they walk out the door.

Once they are in the car Abigail releases a breath and buckles up. "Whew Sugarbritches. I am _so_ glad Mary has found someone. I take it you know him?"

"We, uh, Mary and I worked with Mr. Provo. I didn't know he had moved to Albuquerque. Mary never mentioned him."

"They act as if they've been together for some time. Why wouldn't she talk about him? He seems nice."

Marshall coughs. "Mary only talks to me about work." Marshall hands the business card to Abigail. "That's what he's doing now."

Abigail is quiet for a while. "So he knows what you and Mary do?" Marshall doesn't say a word. "That must make things a lot easier for Mary. I know how you struggle. I wish you could share your problems with me."

"Abigail," Marshall warns. "Don't start."

"I know. I know." She pats his knee.

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A/N: Thanks to everyone who is following or has favorited this story.


	5. Battle Stations

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

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Provoked Too– Chapter 5 – Battle Stations

In the office, the next day Marshall is still stewing about Mary's date. He needs to confront her about how Lucas knows Davey. If she broke regulations again he can write her up and make sure it goes in her personnel folder. He's no marshmallow. When Marshall became Chief he was surprised to find so few reprimands in Mary's jacket. He could think of ten times she ran counter to regulations.

Mary's out on witness visits most of that day. When she returns Marshall is on his way out. He promised Abigail he'd be home for dinner. He hesitates at the gate because he wants to get this 'discussion' done but he can't break his promise to Abigail, again. There's always tomorrow.

The next day every WITSEC Inspector in the western US seems to be at their desk. After being chewed out by Delia for making a scene at the staff meeting he doesn't want to call Mary to his office. Too many marshals to misinterpret the dressing down he needs to give her. Marshall's beginning to feel like Scarlet O'Hara in _Gone With the Wind_. "After all tomorrow is another day."

The next day looks promising. Mary's in the office working on her witness reports and funding requests. Delia and Charlie are out. Most of the Phoenix marshals are at an in house training. Marshall smirks thinking of other training sessions as out house training. Yep, he's ready. Today's the day.

He's gone through all his email and double checked the BOLOs that have been issued in the last 24 hours. Mary is sitting with her head back, eyes closed. As good a time as any. He walks over to her desk. "Inspector Shannon. We need to speak. In my office now."

Mary's eyes are reduced to slits at his attempt to flaunt his authority. He waits for some obscene retort that never comes. "Sure Chief. What's this about?" She grabs her cup and pushes herself out of her chair and follows him to his office.

Mary sits in the comfortable visitor chair – the one that still has some padding. Marshall settles himself behind his desk and steeples his fingers like a teacher taking a student to task.

"It's come to my attention that you have breached one of our witness's security by sharing his status with an outside party."

"What? Says who? What witness?" Mary's hackles are up.

"Davey and your 'date' Lucas Provo."

"Oh." She sits back and stares at Marshall unabashed. She can explain _that_. She cradles her cup and begins. "I can tell you what Lucas knows about Davey. Nothing. Davey saw Lucas' legal aid flyer. Davey has a friend who's a veteran and needs legal help. I didn't know Davey had any friends until I followed him to that bar. Davey told his friend to meet him and Lucas at the Halfway. Here," she proffers her phone with Davey's number displayed. "Call Davey. Ask him. Ask him who his friend is and if his friend is a client of Provo's."

Marshall looks away, disgusted at being so quick to doubt his former partner. He knows her better than that. At least he used to.

"Look Inspector. Since Mr. Provo knows what you do he can easily conclude that Davey is your witness. Why else would you be at that bar?"

Mary folds her arms over her chest. "I drink wherever I want. Bars like that are exactly the kind that my witnesses visit." She leans forward, eyes narrowed, mouth thin. "It's my **job** to check that place to assure the safety and security of my witnesses." She leans back daring him to contradict her.

Marshall folds. Mary is many things but she's never lied to him. Not about a witness. "I will check with Davey. Witnesses have to know that we put their safety first," he responds primly.

Mary nods. "Davey won't mind. He likes to talk."

Oh god. Marshall had forgotten just how much Davey likes to talk. He'll have to set aside an hour just to get Davey to answer one question. What has to be done has to be done.

Marshall studies his hands takes a deep breath and dives in. "I just want to remind you that even though Lucas Provo knows you are a WITSEC Inspector you can't tell him anything about the job or any of our witnesses."

Marshall startles at the sudden bang. Mary has pounded her cup onto his desk so hard coffee sloshed out. She stands, leaning on his desk, looming over it, glaring at him. "What is this really about Chief? I would never endanger my witnesses or my family by revealing anything. I made that mistake once, years ago and I swore then I'd never ever do it again. Yes Lucas knows what I did when we first met. He _assumes_ I'm still doing it, but for all he knows, I work at the court house. I never told him **_anything_**. Just like you never told Detective Chaffee anything. Are we clear?"

Marshall grits his teeth. "Crystal." He can't let it go at that. There's the other issue, their friendship. "So," he accuses. "You don't have time to come to dinner at my house because of Norah but you have time to go out on a date?"

Mary crosses her arms. "Norah isn't exposed to germs while I'm on a date! _Norah was_ _with Mark, but that's none of his business._ "Since when is my personal life your business? I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself **and** my daughter. I don't go sticking my nose into your business. I don't ask you about Abigail, the wedding, or your families."

She's on a roll now. "What does her family know about your job, your promotion to Chief? What do you tell them when they ask what you are Chief of? How many divisions, departments of the Marshal Service are there in Albuquerque? Your name doesn't appear on any if them. Do they all know enough not to ask? Surely they're curious about the man their dear sweet daughter is marrying. What have you told them?"

Now Marshall's angry. Not because Mary's wrong. She's right. It's been awkward explaining his position to Abigail's family. Even people in law enforcement don't know much about WITSEC. They're not supposed to. The wedding reception with a mix of those who know, those who want to know and an open bar could spell disaster. The fact that she picked the issue that has been bothering him makes him mad. He doesn't have any answers dammit.

"That's none of your business, Inspector," he growls.

"Then who I date is none of yours, Chief."

She's run out of steam and drops her arms. "Think about what you're doing Chief. Get the facts before you make accusations." She turns and points at him before going out the door. "And call Davey."

He's raises his eyebrows when she doesn't slam the door.

Marshall puts his hands in his hair tugging to calm the storm in his brain. "Good going Chief," he mutters. _Who got the dressing down?_ He rotates his chair to face the wall behind his desk. The wall full of diplomas, certificates and his engagement photo.

He turns back to view the office. _Oh god. Who heard that? Who saw us? I wouldn't put it past the regional office to have a ringer reporting to them_. Marshall appreciates Mary's effectiveness but he knows that appearances are important to his bosses.

It's time to get back to work. He powers his way through directives, case notes and witness reports and when he looks up, the office is dark and its past time for him to leave. Abigail is going to be angry. He didn't call to tell her he'd be late. If he's lucky she got hung up with the gun runner investigation. For once he hopes that is the case.

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A/N: Thank you for following this story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.


	6. Picnic Playoffs

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

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Provoked Too– Chapter 6 – Picnic Playoffs

 _MARY'S HOME_

"Hey Bug. What have you been up to?" Mary hugs Norah and sticks her finger in the back of the diaper. "Gross!" She tosses a changing pad and all the other items on the floor. She lays Norah down and tickles her tummy and wrestles her into a clean diaper. "All done!" She holds Norah up and frowns at the pink teddy bear diaper. _Really Jinx? Eh, they're good enough for poop_. "Mommy's home today Bug. We get to play aaaaalll day." Mary's balancing the baby on her stomach when her phone rings.

"You stay put Bug." She gently rolls Norah onto the floor dangling plastic keys. "Hey Lucas, how's it hangin?"

"Nope, no can do. I've got Norah all to myself today." When did having Norah go from being a burden to a joy? Getting a good nights sleep must do it.

"Well . . . we could meet you at the park." Norah hasn't met Lucas yet and Mary still isn't sure she wants her to.

"No not where we go running - Roosevelt Park off Coal and Spruce. Near the stadium. It's got a playground."

"Give me an hour. It takes forever to pack and load her gear."

"Well Bug, guess it's time for you to meet Lucas. Let's see what you think of him. Huh Bug?" With Norah on her hip Mary goes through her leaving the house checklist. Diaper bag, change of clothes for herself and another one for Norah, baby food pouches and water and everything but the kitchen sink go in the bag. The stroller is already in the back of the minivan. "I never knew one little kid needed so much crap! At least you don't need boots, a jacket and mittens," she tells the baby. "Just sunscreen and a hat! Aargh, it never ends."

Mary finds a parking spot and gets Norah into the stroller without a battle. Always a good sign. Norah's head swivels calmly checking out the scene. Mary spots Lucas' Land Rover and sees him walking toward them carrying a cooler.

"What's that? Equal opportunity baggage? If I'm carrying a bag you have to carry something?"

Lucas laughs. "It's almost lunchtime. I thought we should have a picnic. Hence, the picnic cooler."

If this was Marshall she would have told him not to say 'hence.' But this isn't Marshall. Mary eyes the cooler mumbling, "I make it a practice to never pass up free food."

Lucas puts down the cooler. "A good practice. Rule #1: An army travels on its stomach."

Mary eyes the t-shirt that clings to his sculpted abs. "So I see. Get over here and meet Norah." Mary squats down to Norah's level. Lucas does the same. "Bug? This is Lucas. He's a friend of mommy's."

Norah already has Mary's demoralizing glare down pat. She focuses on his face then turns away in boredom.

"Hey," Lucas objects. "Look what I got!" He brings out a yellow rubber Sophie giraffe from the pocket of his cargo pants and squeezes it until it squeaks. Norah grabs it and immediately puts the head in her mouth. "Don't worry. I washed it," Lucas assures Mary.

"How much you wanna bet it never makes it home?" Mary grumbles. One more thing to keep track of.

"We'll see." Lucas looks around the park taking in the tangle of colorful playground equipment. "They've got quite a set up here. What does she like?"

"I usually take her on that." Mary points to a low slide wide enough for parent and child.

"What are you waiting for?" Lucas asks the baby. He stays with the stroller and cooler as mother and daughter slide. When they get to the bottom she spots Lucas with a camera. Mary swings Norah onto her hip and stalks toward him. "Lucas," she warns.

He holds out the camera. "Look, old style digital camera. No internet, no location app. C'mon Mary, how many pictures do you have of you and Norah?"

Mary hangs her head. "Umm none, unless you count the one in the hospital where I look like I've been hit by a truck and Norah is a pink blob."

"Well, there you go. I'll print it out at home. You can come to my place and watch me delete the file. Okay?"

Mary's still uncomfortable about having her picture taken with Norah. "Guess I'll have to trust you this time, but don't do it again without asking me first," she huffs. Lucas holds up his hands in surrender.

After a few more sessions on the slide, Lucas plants himself at the bottom to catch Norah. He holds out his arms and Norah leans his way. He picks her up and twirls around and around making her giggle. "Oh yeah," he says. "You'll be ready for the merry go round soon." They're walking to the stroller when they hear someone calling.

Mary puts her hand up to shade her eyes. "Is that. . . ."

"Little Miss Perky and your boss?" Lucas supplies. "Looks like it." Mary groans and leans down to buckle Norah up, too late for a quick getaway.

"Mary, so good to see you **and** Norah," Abigail gushes. "You too Mr. Provo." Mary pastes on a tepid smile and wonders where Marshall is. If the southern-fried-detective is here he can't be far behind.

"Lucas, please. Seems we both think this is picnic weather." He hoists his cooler and nods toward Marshall who is lugging a large wicker and willow hamper.

Marshall whoofs as he sets it down. "Woah," Mary greets him. "You guys feeding the 5th army?"

"No," Mashall pants. Abigail," he turns and salutes her, "made quiche Lorraine." His exaggerated accent is supposed to be French. "It's has to travel flat. We've got a couple of bottles of sparkling juice too."

"There's more than quiche and juice in there Sugarbear," Abigail winks slyly. "Gotta keep my Mann happy." She giggles at her own joke. Mary wonders how Abigail will like being teased when her last name is Mann. "Granny always said peace in the head requires peace in the stomach. Right Sugarbritches?"

Mary turns her head so Abigail can't see her roll her eyes. Lucas watches the other couple as Mary whispers in his ear. "If you ever call me a cutesy nickname in public, I will un-man you."

Lucas murmurs back. "And you'd have my permission."

Abigail is prying open the basket and misses the exchange. Marshall, attuned to his former partner, did not. They see his mouth thin in disapproval before he turns to his fiancée. "Everything make it okay Abs?"

"Yes Honeybunch. Let's find a table so we can start the feast. After last night I know you're hungry Sugarbear." She looks at Mary, Norah and Lucas. "Why don't you join us?" She eyes the picnic area and points. "There's a table big enough for all of us."

Mary looks at Lucas. Lucas shrugs and Norah says nothing because Sophie's legs are in her mouth. "Sure." She's been watching Abigail watch Norah.

"Look at that Sugarbear. Norah has one of those cute giraffes. I want to get one of those for my niece. Where did you find it Mary?"

"Uh, I didn't. Lucas gave it to her." Marshall's faux smile turns into a frown. Lucas knows Norah well enough to buy her presents? How much time does he spend with her? Mary won't let him even see Norah and this guy gets to buy her toys?

Marshall frowns as Abigail gives Lucas an appraising look. "Do you have children Lucas?"

"No. My nieces and nephews keep me clued in. My sister told me about Sophie." He points to the giraffe. "I bought it online. Even I'm not brave enough to go shopping in a store full of kids."

"I suppose you can order anything online these days. I still like to go to a store, see things for myself." Abigail confides, looking at Marshall. "Don't we Sugar?" Mary smirks because she knows the last thing Marshall bought in person besides groceries, was his 'fun gun' the Colt Detective Special. Doesn't Abigail know he even buys his pjs online?

The table is under a tree which means shade but also bird droppings. Lucas spreads a large tablecloth then anchors it with his cooler. Marshall wrestles their basket onto the other end and then wipes off the benches. Norah has her pouty hungry look so Mary puts the pouches of spinach, squash and apple and pear apple on the table and unbuckles her.

Abigail holds the basket while Marshall removes the quiche. He looks in the basket. "Sweetheart? Where's the knife?"

"Knife? I thought you put it in the basket." She frowns as she examines the basket's cloth lined interior. "Well Sugarbear, I must have distracted you and you forgot to put it in the basket." She winks making sure the others understand what kind of distraction she means.

"Here," Lucas volunteers. He pulls a hunting knife from his boot and cleans it off with hand sanitizer and one of Mary's baby wipes. "Use this."

"Thanks," Marshall cuts the quiche into wedges but it's soft and the slices collapse. Abigail gets the filling out with a spoon and puts the crumbles on her medallion shaped plastic plates. Lucas puts a roll of paper towels on the table and gives Mary a heavy-duty paper plate and a fork. He sets down a platter of fried chicken and two containers - pasta salad and coleslaw. Mary reaches into the stroller and plunks baby wipes on the table.

Mary turns to Lucas and talks around a mouthful of pasta ignoring Marshall's tsk at her breach of etiquette. "How did you know?" She points her fork at the chicken, pasta and coleslaw. "These are my favorites!" She's devouring the chicken one handed while holding Norah. "What did you bring to drink?"

"Ah," Lucas responds. "This is the pièce de résistance." Mary rolls her eyes. Lucas' French is even more pretentious than Marshall's. A drink dispenser is lifted from the cooler with a flourish. "Homemade honey lemonade with grapefruit and mint." Mary eyes it dubiously.

Lucas pours a cup quarter full and hands it to her. "Just try it." Mary sips then downs it in a single gulp and holds her cup out for more. Lucas turns to Marshall and Abigail. "I'd say she likes it. Would you like to try some?"

Abigail demurs, but Marshall holds out his cup. They had brought sparkling white grape juice. "No thanks. I prefer grape juice," Abigail declares. "Of course, the fermented kind is even better," she titters as the rest of them chow down. "You're welcome to have some."

Marshall did like the lemonade. He needed plenty to wash down the clumps of quiche. Mary sees him eyeing the fried chicken. She nudges Lucas, who promptly offers, "Would either of you like some chicken? Seems I overestimated our appetites."

"Please help yourself to the quiche," Marshall offers while grabbing a breast.

Lucas puffs out his chest, bragging. "I made the chicken. Mom's secret recipe."

Mary pokes him with her elbow. "Liar! You did not. I saw the Golden Pride BBQ box," she snorts, bumping his shoulder. "And you expect me to trust you?"

"Can't blame a guy for trying." Lucas has never felt the need to compete for a woman. But with Mary, it's different. He wants to show her he is better than Marshall. Better for her. He wants Mary, who has fought for everything she has, to come out on top. Especially if it means she ends up with him.

"I thought it looked like theirs." Marshall sighs. "I love their fried chicken." He tears off a piece. "It is so moist and juicy - the best."

Abigail pouts. "You said my fried chicken was the best."

Marshall backtracks. "Yours **is** the best Sweetheart, the best home made. Golden Pride's is just the best you can buy, uh. . . I mean the best commercial chicken." Hands full of chicken he goes to nuzzle Abigail but she has turned her head so he gets a nose full of hair instead. Mary snickers.

Mary has seen Marshall shoveling antacids after one of Abigail's 'special' lunches. Marshall glares at her knowing she knows and for once Mary keeps it to herself. Crisis averted, Marshall and Lucas debate whether Napoleon or Fredrick the Great said that an army travels on its stomach. Mary and Abigail sit awkwardly silent as Norah gums her new teething toy.

"Can I hold her?" Abigail asks. "She's such a little doll!" Abigail moves next to Mary.

Mary can't find a good reason to say no. Hoping Norah's diaper picks this time to overflow she hands the baby to Abigail. "There ya go Bug." Mary smiles at her daughter, faces close. "How do you like the view from there?"

When Mary sits back Norah cranes her neck, sees Abigail and bursts into tears. "C'mon back, babe." Mary takes Norah and rocks her. At the sound of Norah's crying Marshall and Lucas look up, concern writ large on both their faces. "She's fine." Mary tells them, as she rocks the wailing little girl. Mary checks her diaper and makes sure nothing is pinching her.

"Here, let me have her," Lucas says. Reluctantly Mary hands him the crying baby and Lucas sets her on his shoulders for a horseback ride. The furrows on Mary's forehead relax when she sees that he's holding her securely and Norah has stopped crying. He gallops gently bouncing her. Nora smiles then starts to giggle. By the time they're done she is laughing and reaching for the leaves. Marshall looks wistful and Mary's sure he's thinking of giving his own children horseback rides someday.

"Would you like to take some quiche home? There's enough to share," Abigail assures them as she packs away their picnic paraphernalia.

"No that's okay," Lucas politely refuses the undercooked mess.

Mary sniggers quietly, "Real men don't eat quiche." Marshall frowns, Lucas smiles and thinks maybe they aren't as close as he thought. Lucas doesn't know she's teased Marshall for years. It doesn't faze Marshall but Abigail frowns and packs faster.

"All done," Abigail reports. "Isn't there something we need to do this afternoon?" Knowing Abigail wants to leave and feeling uncomfortable himself, Marshall nods.

"There's a stamped tile demonstration at House of Floors." He tells Mary and Lucas. "We're considering it for the patio." He grabs the basket handles. "Nice to see you two again." He bends down almost close enough to Eskimo kiss Norah. "I'm gonna miss you little miss. You be good for your mommy. She gets into enough trouble all by herself."

Norah tries to look at him but he's too close and her eyes cross. Mary watches not wanting Norah upset again. She needn't worry. Norah's not even interested enough to grab his nose.

"Bye," Abigail tosses over her shoulder as she takes Marshall's hand and heads to the parking lot.

Once they are out of sight Lucas says, "That was interesting."

"That's one word for it," Mary smirks and bumps him. "I'd say you won the picnic playoffs. Even Missy Detective ate your fried chicken." She reaches down making sure Norah has a firm grip on Sophie. "Did you get your knife back?"

"Yup." He pats his boot. "Never leave home without it."

"So this is the second time we've run into Marshall and Abigail. Do you think they planned it?"

Lucas tilts his head. "Paranoid much Mary? How could they? We didn't decide to come to the park until a few hours ago. And why would they?"

Mary slowly pushes the stroller as they meander to the parking lot. "I think Marshall wants to check us out. We used to watch each other's backs and he can't seem to break the habit. He tells me Abigail wants me to come to their 'soirees,'" she lets go of the stroller long enough to make the dreaded air quotes. "Right. I'd be as welcome as a skunk at a garden party. I'm the last person **she** wants there."

"Whatever she thinks it seems he's still looking out for you. I told you I'd have to go through him to get you."

They're at Mary's minivan. "Yeah well I'm not a door prize. No one 'gets' me." She transfers Norah from the stroller to her car seat.

"Of course not." Lucas takes her hand. "You are a fascinating woman Mary. I don't pretend to know you, but I'd like to." He leans in for a kiss and she turns so his lips land on her cheek. She doesn't know why she didn't follow through. It was just a kiss, right?

"Why fascinating?" She wonders what kind of come on line he'll use.

He holds both her hands. "A woman who chooses law enforcement, a traditionally male job? And then she picks the super macho Marshal Service?" Mary's head jerks back. That's no come on line she's ever heard.

"You think the Marshals are super macho?" She's never been anything but a US Marshal. Men don't have to be in law enforcement to be idiots.

"Hell yeah. They're right up there with the marines," he assures her. "I've dealt with all branches of the military and most law enforcement agencies. I know what I'm talking about."

"So?" She shrugs off the compliment. "There are women marines."

"Yes there are and they do not have an easy time of it. I bet you didn't either."

"No," she confesses. "Nothing's ever been easy for me."

He gently grabs her biceps so she has to look him in the eye. "And it has made you the courageous, capable, fierce, loyal, marshal and mother you are today."

Mary shakes him off and snickers as she heads for the driver's seat. "You just want to get in my pants."

Lucas laughs out loud as he picks up his cooler. "Oh no darlin'. I want much more than that."


	7. Wash Your Troubles Away

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

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Provoked Too – Chapter 7 – Wash Your Troubles Away

Marshall & Abigail's home

Marshall's hands are submerged in bubbles as he does the dinner pots and pans. He's scrubbing carefully when Abigail takes her damp towel and snaps it across his butt, giggling. "Hurry it up Sugarbritches," she teases. "The sooner we're done, the sooner I can get some sugar from those britches." When his only response is a tepid smile she puts her arms around his waist and hugs him from behind.

"Y'know, we haven't had the gang over for months. I know you're busy settling into your new position, but I really wanted to throw you a party - y'know – celebrating your promotion. We should invite. . . ."

Marshall grits his teeth. "Really Abigail?" He snaps. "And what would we tell them about my promotion? Where would we say I worked? Should I invite them to the office?" Abigail sighs and presses her face into his back. "Oh come on. It's not that big a deal."

Marshall cranes his neck to look at her. "Not that big a deal?" He stares. "You do realize I could be fired if they thought I told you what I do."

"I am a detective. You didn't **have** to tell me," Abigail's whines.

"Besides," he turns his attention back to the sink, "I thought you told your parents." He knew she called her mom the day his promotion came through. What exactly did she tell them?

Abigail grabs the clean pot and starts drying. "I told them that you were in charge of an office in the Marshal Service. I never mentioned which office or where it's located." She sniffs. "Does that meet with your approval?"

"Yup," he agrees running the water to rinse the last dish. _Doesn't she know how many lives depend on his anonymity? Get real Doofus –_ when did he start referring to himself as Doofus? _– of course she doesn't know. She can't know. Doesn't she realize his secrecy keeps her safe? Keeps her family safe?_

"I don't understand why you don't just use the dishwasher. We'd have more time for foolin' around." Abigail runs her hands over his shoulders and down the center of his back tucking her fingers into his waistband.

"Abigail! Don't. I'm going to drop your mother's casserole. I'm washing it by hand because I know that it has a history in your family. I want to pass it on to our children."

Mollified by his reasoning she sighs, "Children." Suddenly she pulls her hands out of his pants and asks sharply, "Why do you think Mary's little brat cried when I held her? I'm glad Mary never brought her here. If all she's going to do is cry it would ruin the evening."

They've had this discussion before. Marshall sighs and enunciates slowly. "Some babies don't like anyone but their own mother. Some will go only go to women, some only to men." He shrugs. "Don't take it personal. She's a baby. You know how babies can be."

"No," she flounces to the cabinet to put away a saucepan. "I don't! My nephews and nieces love me. They never cried when I held them, even when they were just babies. Besides, she went to Lucas."

"She's been around Lucas more. He's familiar. As for your family, they all have the a similar scent. Any child in the family can feel comfortable with that familiar smell. Remember my brother Clint's little girl, Casey?"

"Oh do I! I was never so embarrassed in my life. That child screamed bloody murder when all I did was pat her on the head. Everyone thought I slapped her!"

"I've known Casey all her life and I've never seen her react like that. You must have surprised her. She's never done that with my family. Scent or maybe pheromones is at work there too. My family's pheromones." He'd researched pheromones trying to figure out why Mary never considered him boyfriend material. Maybe if he had used whiskey aftershave?

"When we have our own children," Abigail declares, "they'll have a combination of both of our pheromones so they will be comfortable with either family."

"That's the theory." Marshall opens the drain and watches the water gurgles down, wishing his own unease would drain away.

Abigail puts her wet dish towel around Marshall's neck and pulls him down for a kiss. "Aaaa ug. Abs you're getting me wet." That wasn't the response she expected. What is going on with him?

Abigail stomps her foot. "That was the idea Sugarbear. I wanted you to join me in that big ol' tub but if you're going to be such a grump I'm going to soak alone." She clomps out of the kitchen. "Get yourself in a better mood Mr. Mann!"

What is wrong with him? He'd been in a foul mood ever since running into Mary at the park last weekend. Mary and Norah and **him**. Why isn't he happy for his former partner? She's happy for him. Isn't she? Lucas seems like a good guy. Someone who appreciates Mary, understands who she is. He's only concerned because Provo knows Mary's in WITSEC, and not because Mary has **the** worst taste in men. It's only a matter of time before she screws up and endangers a passel of witnesses. That's why his stomach is upset and his chest feels tight.

He's wiping down the counters and cleaning off the stove but thinking of Norah. She didn't even recognize him! She let Lucas pick her up, but barely tolerated him. At least she didn't cry when he gave her an almost Eskimo kiss. Marshall sighs and rolls his shoulders. Ugh. He still needs to call Davey.

When he's finished, he joins a freshly bathed Abigail in the bedroom. They sit resting against the headboard. With a full stomach and a full heart, Marshall puts his arm around his fiancée. She squirms away. "Abs? What's wrong?"

"Where were you tonight? What was so goddamn important that you had to leave me alone on one of our few nights off?"

"Abs, Abigail, sweetie. I told you. It was work. Believe me, Mary didn't want to be there any more than I did."

Her face falls and her eyes become angry slits. "You were with Mary?"

Marshall rolls his eyes. "Yes I was with Mary. She works for me, at least for now."

Abigail crosses her arms over her chest. "Oh I know she works for you, although most of the time it seems you work for her. All she has to do is crook her little finger and you come running." Abigail stares at the wall then turns to him. "What do you mean 'for now.'"

He'd come home as soon as he could, even showered and shaved, made dinner, cleaned the kitchen and she's being pissy? Abigail seems determined to push every one of his buttons. He feels as if she has him under a microscope. "I'm just worried," she says. "You've never been so crabby. If you don't feel better tomorrow, please make a doctor appointment."

"I'll think about it Abs. I'm sure it's nothing. Any change, even a positive one like our engagement can be stressful." Marshall puts his arm around her and this time she doesn't pull away.

"Marshall, what did you mean Mary works for you for now? Has she found another position?" She sounds curious and hopeful.

Marshall retracts his arm and leans his head back on the headboard. "She should."

"Why? Norah's taken care of. She's got Lucas. You said she loves her job. Why would she move?"

"Mary needs to be there for Norah – to see her graduate from kindergarten, from high school, from college. You know how our jobs are. Boredom interspersed with danger to life and limb. Now that she has Norah she needs to take care of herself. Avoid dangerous situations. That can be hard to do in our job."

"You mean she's in danger because she doesn't have you to watch her back. Mary has a new partner who will look out for her."

Marshall nods slowly. "True. But Mary's partner isn't as experienced. As for Lucas. He doesn't have roots in Albuquerque. I think he'd go wherever she goes if she'll have him. He came to Albuquerque because of her."

Abigail sucks in a breath. "Oh. I didn't realize they were serious."

Marshall huffs. "He's serious. He's not sure Mary is." Why does the thought of Mary leaving Albuquerque make his stomach twist? She's no longer part of his personal life. If only Abigail could see that.

"Is that why you had to see her tonight? To talk her out of transferring?"

Marshall's mouth puckers in distaste. "No, I told you. It was work. You know I can't tell you any more than that!"

"Can't or won't?"

"Abigail, don't you trust me?"

She looks into his piercing blue eyes, taking her time, judging him. "Alright, Sugarbear, I trust you to do the right thing." He relaxes, thinking she understands. She scoots down, getting her head on the pillow, her back to him. "I'm not sure the right thing will be what I want or need."

"What in the hell is that supposed to mean?" Marshall's no longer relaxed and Abigail doesn't appear sleepy.

She rolls on her back, staring up at him. "What do you need Marshall Mann? Just what does having Mary as your 'work wife' mean?"

"What are you insinuating Abigail?"

She pushes herself back up. "I mean ' _work'_ is a damn convenient way for have your cake and eat it too. A way to be engaged to me and still having a relationship with Mary."

He crosses his arms and stares straight ahead. "You really don't trust me." His tone is dead flat. Is this angry Marshall? Abigail has never seen him angry. He'd always been playful and sunny.

"I want to trust you Sugarbear, but I think you aren't as committed to this relationship as I am. You're still stuck on Mary."

"I am not," he says slowly, evenly, "stuck on Mary. Mary and I have nothing in common. We don't have a relationship. We were friends, but ever since I asked her to release me she barely talks to me. Mary and I have never been further apart!" Realizing the truth of what he said, he drops his head and lets out a breath that sounds too much like a sob.

Abigail gives up trying to sleep. "You miss her," she says softly. It wasn't an accusation as much as an observation. "Do you know you talk in your sleep?" Marshall's head comes up and he turns to her. "The damn gun runner case is keeping me awake. Sometimes I hear you murmur her name. Other times you shout as if you're trying to warn her. It's a wonder you hadn't woken me before this."

"I…uh," Marshall stutters. He hadn't dreamed of Mary since he started dating Abigail. After learning about Lucas he remembers dreaming of pulling Mary from Lucas' arms. Why is he dreaming that? He's happy with Abigail. She is fun and sweet and sexy. "I can't control my dreams, and I don't remember them - most of the time."

"I know Sugarbear." She caresses his cheek and kisses him softly. "I understand things have changed at home and at work. I'm sure you'll soon be the Honeybritches I know and love. Love you." Abigail says softly. She pats his cheek and gives him another kiss then lays down with her back to him.

Marshall closes his eyes when she kisses him, but chooses to sleep with his back to hers. The heart wants what the heart wants. Who does his heart want?

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A/N: Thanks Meg for the review. I'd love to know what other readers think.


	8. Shootout at the Not-So-OK Corral

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

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Provo Too– Chapter 8 – Shootout at the Not-So-OK Corral

The next morning Marshall's mood hadn't changed. Even sex with Abigail didn't brighten his outlook. _Why didn't I call it making love? Is she faking it?_ His favorite coffee concoction, even the new pair of handcrafted boots he'd ordered didn't help. He's spending more time at work, but doesn't feel that he's accomplishing much. Even Delia knows to can the chatter when brings him a muffin.

It's as if he and Mary had exchanged personalities. _What's wrong with me?_ The happier she is the crabbier he becomes. _Maybe I should see Shelley. Maybe the good doctor could help. Nyah. You're just putting off calling Davey_.

An hour later Marshall is rubbing his flattened ear. _Next time I'll use the speakerphone_. Davey had confirmed everything Mary said and provided additional information about his friend. Mary had just sat down at her desk when Marshall opens his office door. "Mary. Come in please."

She's not happy to be interrupted before she even gets settled. "Can I get coffee first Chief?"

"Of course. I wouldn't want you to be uncaffeinated." He sits at his desk and looks over the notes he made while talking to Davey. As Mary shuts the door and sits down Marshall says. "It's about Davey."

"What about Davey? I just ran a threat assessment this morning." Mary's brow furrows as she takes a sip of coffee and notices Marshall rubbing his ear. "Oh, you just talked to him."

"Yes. First I want you to know that he confirmed everything you said about his meeting with Provo. It's his friend, Provo's client, that has me concerned."

"Why? He's not our witness. Not our concern." She raises her cup to her lips but watches him.

"Usually that's true, but if Davey is right, his friend is being hounded by some men to take a warehouse job. Davey said that at first he thought they were Vinelli's gang."

"All brawn and no brain. So," she draws out the word. "You think that if Davey is with this friend the muscle will go after him too? I'll just tell Davey to stay away from him. Problem solved!" She begins to stand.

"Sit down Inspector," Marshall orders. Mary settles back. "Listen, just listen. Don't think about rebuttals and arguments."

For the sake of their former friendship, and because she can tell Marshall is worried, she listens. "Davey hung up on me."

Mary's brow wrinkles. That's a first. Davey never hangs up. She rises out of her chair. "Why didn't you say that first!" Marshall frowns his disapproval, and she sits back. "You got something else?"

"I tried calling him back but got an out of service message. We have to find him and make sure Vinelli's men don't have him."

Mary looks thoughtful. "I ran facial recognition against Sunport's video and didn't find any of Vinelli's gang. Do you think he's recruited outside muscle? Someone we don't know?"

"Could be. You and I both know there are other ways to get to Albuquerque - bus, train, automobile."

"Why can't you just say car like a normal person?" Mary mutters to her lap. She's up and at the door when she turns and apologizes. "Sorry Chief. I'll go run a check on his phone, unless you already ran a trace on the call or tracked his GPS?" When he was her partner Marshall always did the techy stuff. Not that Mary couldn't, he was just quicker.

"No, I haven't. Keep me in the loop Inspector," Marshall says watching her retreating backside. He's considering doing the check himself when his office phone rings. He'd already inquired about Vinelli and his gang.

"Chief Inspector Marshal Mann."

"I love the way you say that."

"Abs, we've got a situation. I can't talk. . . ."

"This isn't a personal call," she huffs. "One of the uniforms thinks he spotted Frantone at Mannie's on Central when he was having breakfast. Isn't he part of Vinelli's gang?"

Marshall furrows his hair with his hand. "Are you sure? Have you got video?"

Does he think she doesn't know her job? "I've requested the video but don't have it yet. As soon as it comes in I'll have the techs run it."

"Abs, this is important. I'll be right there." Abigail looks at her phone hearing dead air.

Marshall grabs his badge and gun and heads for the door. "Where are you going Chief?"

He's at the gate with Mary right behind. "ABQPD thinks they spotted Frantone." She goes to grab her Glock, but Marshall has other ideas. "No Mare. I got this. Track Davey's phone. Go find your witness."

Mary drops her hands to her side, thwarted by his logic. She trudges back to her desk and starts an investigation of her own. What if it wasn't Vinelli's gang that took Davey? What if the guys are after Davey's friend? There hasn't been a hint of Vinelli in Albuquerque.

Lucas answers on the second ring. "Mary. I thought you couldn't call when you're at work."

"This is work. Do you know where your client is?" She has no time for small talk.

"You mean Michael? The camo guy at the bar? He has an appointment with me today. Why?"

"I don't give a rat's ass if it's a breach of client attorney privilege, I need to know what he told you about the warehouse recruiters."

Lucas coughs and pauses, then capitulates. "I saw three of them myself. I'm no cop but they looked like muscle."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Can you call him now?"

"Uh sure. Call you back?"

"You have to ask?" She bites her tongue before she says _dumbass_ and starts the trace on her witness's phone. _This is bad._ Davey's phone is in the industrial area with lots and lots of warehouses. She looks around the office. No Delia, no Charlie and no one else she'd trust to have her back. Her phone rings.

"Whatcha got?"

"Michael is at Cecelia's Café on Silver and 6th." Lucas tells her.

"Tell him to stay there. I'm on my way." Mary hangs up before he can ask any more questions. She's in her minivan tearing out of the parking garage before anyone realizes she's gone.

Times like these Mary misses the Mustang. Hell, she misses the Probe. The minivan's top speed is pathetic. She goes as fast as traffic allows but there's a surprise at the café - Lucas' Land Rover. _"_ _What the hell is he doing here?"_

She strides into the café spotting Lucas and the man she assumes is Michael. She holds out her hand and introduces herself. "Michael? Mary Shephard," she announces quietly, leaning both hands on the table. "I'm a friend of Davey and this guy." She tilts her head toward Lucas. "When was the last time you saw Davey?"

Michael isn't annoyed by her abruptness. His face is a worried pucker. "He came by my place yesterday. He's been trying to get me in where he's working. He said he'd call today with an interview time but I haven't heard from him."

Mary inhales deeply and tosses her head back as if to clear it. "The guys that tried to recruit you - do you know where that job is? The name of the company or the location of the warehouse?"

"It's Propack Logistics. They told me they were hiring for several warehouses all Propack."

Lucas nudges her. "If we're trying to blend in here we need to order. That barista is giving me the evil eye." Mary's ignores him concentrating on her phone. She allows him to usher her into the order line. "What did you find?"

Mary doesn't even look up. "You know I can't tell you."

"Bullshit!" He hisses. "Michael is my client. I need to know if he's in trouble."

The cashier clears her throat. They order and Mary points to Lucas when it's time to pay. She pulls Lucas over to the pick up line. "I'm sure the 'recruiters' that have been hounding Michael are muscle for a local boss. The locals LEOs think he's selling guns and for some reason he wants Michael."

"Guns, hmm?" Lucas checks to see that Michael is where they left him. "I think I know why."

Mary gives him her are-you-crazy-or-do-you-have-a-crystal-ball look. "Okay, I'll bite. Why?"

"Michael was a Special Forces Weapons Sergeant. There isn't a gun in the inventory he doesn't know. This Boss could use him to make sure what he's getting aren't knock offs."

Mary presses her lips together and raises an eyebrow and shakes her head. "There is such a thing?"

"Oh yeah," Lucas assures her.

"Makes sense then." She checks her phone and starts heading out of the café.

"Hey, our coffees." Lucas shouts.

Not wanting to call any more attention to herself, Mary hisses "I've got to go."

Lucas has a cup in each hand and tips his head toward the third cup. Mary takes it figuring she'll be out of here faster if she complies. She puts the cup down and steps away. Lucas grabs her wrist. "Sit."

Mary's pissed, but complies when Lucas sits then asks, "Michael? Can I tell Mary why you came to me? It's part of her own investigation."

Michael looks her over. "You law enforcement?"

"Yeah, let's go with that." Even Mary's lukewarm assurance seems good enough.

He looks at Lucas. "If you think it will help, go ahead."

"We think those guys are after Mike, and will do whatever it takes to get him. They want him alive, so that's a plus. But they are part of a larger organization."

"So that's a minus," Michael whines. "Am I going to have to leave? I like it here. I think I could settle down here – if I can get a job."

"Look Michael," Mary leans across the table. "There's something" – she searches for a word – "time sensitive going on right now. And I won't lie to you. You are in danger. But I need to get to that warehouse ASAP."

"Oh my God. They took Davey!" Michael blurts.

Mary rears back. "How do you know?"

"After Davey left I saw a couple of guys following him. I got Maggie." A question appears on Mary's face. "my rifle" he explains, "and we talked to them. By the time we finished our 'talk' Davey was long gone. Then this morning I got a phone call. I didn't recognize the caller so let it go to voicemail. When I listened to it I thought it was a prank. The sound was garbled but it sort of sounded like Davey. That's when I called Lucas."

"You still have the voicemail?"

"Uh yeah." Michael digs for his phone.

Listening to the garbled message Mary's horrified. It's Davey. She puts all the pieces together and comes up with a threat to her witness. She starts to leave when Lucas grabs her elbow. "Where do you think you're going?"

"The warehouse." Mary's staring at the map pinpointing Propack's warehouses.

She's out the door when Lucas says, "You're not going alone."

Michael follows too. "You don't even know where you're going." Customers are trying to enter so they move to the sidewalk.

Mary hisses at Michael. Between the location of Davey's phone and the warehouses she knows exactly where she's going. "You already told me. I have the addresses." She glares at Lucas. "I can't go to this party plus one. Especially," she nods to Michael, "a civilian plus one." Why would Michael insist on coming along? Who does this guy think he is?

Michael turns to Lucas, "If you're going, I'm going. Davey is there because of me. I'm licensed, I'm carrying and I've got more firepower in the back of my car than you could requisition. We're going to that company's warehouse, right? That's where you think they took Davey?"

Mary rolls her eyes and mutters obscene names for the pair. "You can't stop us Mary, so you might as well come along. Where's your ride Mike?"

So that's how Mary, Michael and Lucas crashed the 'party' at the warehouse. Mary got Davey out in one piece. She didn't have time to question the arsenal in Michael's trunk or the flak jackets and helmets they borrowed. She and Lucas also 'borrowed' M-15s and automatic assault rifles. Lucas and Michael covered Mary and Davey as they left the warehouse. Lucas gets hit but keeps shooting even though he's limping. Michael is appalled when Mary doesn't come back for Lucas. He hoists the bleeding man onto his shoulder. Mary pushes Davey in front of her and turns back to nail the two guys shooting at them. Just as they fear they will be pinned down Albuquerque PD arrives and distracts the gunmen. In other words, all hell breaks loose.

Michael hauls Lucas out of the warehouse and down the alley. Mary gets in Michael's truck. Davey is already head down under the dashboard. "Keys?" Michael throws them to her then buckels Lucas into the back seat. "Go go go." Mary shivers when she sees the blood pouring from Lucas' head.

"Presbyterian is closest," she yells. When they arrive, she badges the ER receptionist and gets Lucas cared for before calling Marshall to let him know Davey has to be relocated.

Marshall had spent the afternoon watching the grainy security video from Mannies. The images aren't clear and facial recognition doesn't find a match. He wonders why Abigail thought it did. The guy paid with a credit card so they'll track him that way, but it will take a warrant and more time than Marshall wants. That's when his phone rings and all his plans go to hell.

Marshall gets back to the office minutes before Mary arrives dragging Davey behind her. She manhandles him into the conference room and goes to get him something to drink. She considers getting out her own bottle of whiskey for the hysterical man.

Marshall stops her. "What in the hell are you doing?" He yells then stops when he sees the blood on her shirt and pants. "Are you hurt?"

"Nyah," she gets in his face, "just a few scrapes from **_rescuing_** my witness who was **_kidnapped_** by a gun runner's gang. Davey's uninjured, in case you care," she snaps fuming over Marshall's disregard of the witness.

Marshall just stares at her. That's not the story he got from Abigail. According to Abby, Mary had busted in on a warehouse under surveillance resulting in a fire fight between the gun runners, ABQPD and Mary and two guys in ops gear.

"Delia?" Marshall calls without looking her way. He knows Delia has been following the exchange. So has everyone else in the office. "See if our guest" he points to the conference room "needs anything. Coffee, band aids, ibuprofen." He adds under his breath. "A sanity check."

"Sure thing Chief." Delia will get Davey to talk. They can compare notes later.

Marshall pushes Mary into his office and doesn't wait for her to sit before accusing her. "Did you bring two civilians into that warehouse?"

"Did I bring them?" she parrots back. "No. Did they come on their own, yes." She grunts when she sits. The flak jacket's not designed for a woman. It's tight and hot. Marshall knows it's not Marshal issue but the question of where she got it vaporizes as his eyes lock on the droplets running into her cleavage.

He pulls his gaze away and gets his big brain back online. "Who were they?" He suspects one was Lucas but if he's going to nail her for this security breach he needs names.

Instead of names, Mary explains. "Davey was missing, remember? I was meeting a source who had seen Davey last night. Lucas showed up."

"Lucas Provo? That's great, just great." Marshall wants to pace but instead fidgets with an origami crane. "Who was this 'source.'"

"Lucas's client."

"His name Mare," he yells and leans across the desk. Never has the chasm between them been wider. "I need his name."

She stands and shouts back. "Well I don't have it. We didn't have time for introductions because we were too busy dodging bullets. All I know is Lucas called him Michael."

Marshall leans back, waiting for more, but Mary doesn't volunteer any. "ABQPD reports some serious firepower in that fire fight, not all of it theirs. Were the gun smugglers dipping into their stock? How did you three manage to get out unharmed?"

Mary frowns. "We didn't." She folds her arms over her chest. "Lucas got hit. He's at Presbyterian right now. I don't know how bad. I had to get Davey here."

"So the firepower was ABQPDs?" The first men back to the police station said there was some military grade weapons involved.

"Not exactly," Mary sniggers. "There were cases of M-15s in the warehouse but we used Michael's collection." Marshall's eyebrows raise. What kind of weapons could a civilian legally own? "He was determined to tag along and he brought the party favors and a **lot** of bullets." Her eyes glaze over. That much firepower always makes her giddy.

Marshall is incensed that Mary is taking this FUBAR lightly. "This isn't funny Mare. Who is this guy? Another gun smuggler who got you to help wipe out his competition?"

Mary is standing taking her hair down when she stops and glares at Marshall. "Look, I don't know any more about Michael than I just told you." But she does, she remembers. "Okay I do know one more thing but I'm not supposed to know – attorney client privilege and all that. He's the guy Davey introduced to Lucas. He was being harassed by some muscle that work for the 'Boss.'"

Marshall leans back. The gun seller Abby is tracking is called Boss. He's beginning to see how this all came together. He puts his elbows on the table and runs his hands through his hair. "This is bad. I should throw the book at you for this one!"

"For what? Rescuing my witness? They were going to kill him. We pulled him out of a room full of guys with their guns all trained on him. Davey said they wanted Michael and grabbed him by mistake. They were going to shoot him. If keeping my witness alive is no longer my job then what the hell is?"

By the time she stops shouting she is breathing hard. Marshall, still seated, looks up. Her eyes are blazing. Her skin is glowing. He can smell the adrenalin. Even her hair seems on fire. She's a glorious avenging angel and he can't stop staring. This is his exotic animal, the one he can't release.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the review Meg!


	9. Aftermath

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

* * *

Provoked Too– Chapter 9 - Aftermath

Mary went straight to the hospital after dumping Davey. All she knew was that Lucas was coherent when she left him with Michael. She asks at the desk and is given his room number, thanking God that he isn't in ICU. There was so much blood.

She opens the door slowly. Lucas is sitting up, staring at a dinner tray of cardboard meat and off color peas. "Hey." She doesn't want to startle him. "Did you eat all the pudding?"

"Sure did." Lucas admits. "It's the only thing they serve in this repair shop that tastes good."

Mary is relieved. She sees some gauze and bandages on his head. The blanket covers his legs so she can't see the damages there. "What did the doc say?"

Lucas grins at her. "That I shouldn't be wasting his time for something that needs a band aid. It's just a graze, Mary. I'll be fine. Honest."

She's leans on the edge of his bed, anxious to see for herself. "No, really Lucas. What did the doctor say?"

"Got a new part in my hair." He turns to show her the shaved area on the side of his head. Mary shivers.

"God Lucas, another 1/16" and we wouldn't be having this conversation. Why didn't you wear a helmet?"

Lucas shrugs. "Damn thing gets in the way. It's not that bad. Just a couple stitches in my calf. No muscle damage. C'mere."

Mary pulls the uncomfortable plastic chair close and sits. Lucas pushes the tray table away and stretches out his hand. She takes it. It's the first time she's held anyone's hand since grade school.

"You were something else, Deadeye." He's gazing at her. "Seeing you under fire. Seeing you take out the badguys. Whoowee! You sure can smoke 'em." He's rubbing his thumb over her trigger finger. "I'm more fascinated than ever now."

"I've been known to itch my finger," she replies, downplaying her part in saving Lucas' life. "You know I didn't wait for you. After you got shot."

"I know. I wasn't your job. Davey was. I understand. But you got the guys who were shooting at me. That counts." Mary ducks her head, feeling guilty despite his understanding.

"You know when you grabbed me at the café you took your life in your hands. If I hadn't had to get Davey you wouldn't have made it to the party in one piece."

Lucas shrugs, unapologetic. "Had to be done. No way was I letting you go alone."

"Letting?" she growls.

"Mary, get real. You knew you were walking into a fight with an the enemy that had unlimited firepower, and you were going to get Davey out with what? Your Glock?"

Mary pouts. "My two Glocks. I have a holdout."

"That wouldn't have saved you – or Davey. I couldn't let that happen. Norah needs you," he adds softly. "You need to see that little girl grow up. You don't want to miss that."

She's used to focusing only on her witness, thinking only of her next move. She's used to think about her partner and how best to protect him. This time she barely thought of Norah. _How could I forget my baby?_ Mary sniffs, eyes watery. She lets go of his hand and wipes her eyes. "Your right." She kisses him gently on the cheek. "Thanks." She turns away embarrassed by the tears she can't stop.

"I've seen grown men bawl after a battle. I know how strong you are, how capable you are. But, for Norah you have to keep from falling on a bullet."

Mary looks at him and hiccups, trying to pretend it's a laugh. She hesitantly touches the hair around his bandages and slides her hand down to caress his cheek. "How's Michael? He wasn't hit was he?"

"Nyah. His vest got it but he barely has bruise. He went to get us some real food."

Mary regards this man whose life has become intertwined with hers. "Lucas, who is he? I can tell he's seen combat, but there's more than that, isn't there?"

Lucas shakes his head then winces. "Sorry Mary. Not my tale to tell."

The door opens and Michael asks, "Then whose tale is it?" He's holding two white bags and carrying a tray with two milkshakes. Mary's stomach growls but Michael laughs and clutches the bags to his chest. "Oh no you don't."

Mary grouses. "What happened to esprit de corpus, combat in arms and all that shit?"

Lucas sniffs appreciatively. "C'mon Mikey. Stop fooling around. Show us what you got. We can share."

"I dunno. Depends on what he brought." Mary's attempt to appear picky is undone by the growl from her stomach. As it turns out 5 burgers and 4 orders of fries are enough for the three of them.

Finally sated Lucas eyes the now empty bags. "Were you planning on company?"

"Nyah. I know you and hospital food." Michael starts on his second burger leaning against the wall.

Mary looks from one man to the other suspiciously. "You two worked together before?"

"Yeah," Lucas says around a mouthful of burger. "We served together."

She puts down her burger and sets her hands on her hips. "So it wasn't an accident that you were both at that bar." She's wondering just how badly she messed up by letting Lucas meet Davey. "You lied to me."

"No, no," Michael swallows and protests. "Yes, Lucas and I go way back, but I had no idea Davey wanted me to meet him. That was a TOTAL accident," he assures her. "Honest Mary, I wouldn't endanger a civilian. I swore Lucas to secrecy. He understood. It would have blown the op."

"So," she says watching Lucas. "Are you really former military and currently something else?" she demands.

Lucas smiles. He loves seeing her riled. "Wanna see my discharge papers?"

"Only if they're real. What about you, Mikey?" she narrows her eyes. "How ex is your military status."

Michael's mouth is full. He chews and wipes his face with a napkin. "I'm out of the military, really. Used to be Special Forces. Now I'm ATF."

"Oh my god, I can' t believe I didn't make you as ATF."

Michael holds up the last bit of burger, smiles and shrugs. "What can I say. I'm damn good. I had a hard time believing you're a marshal." Mary frowns. "You're just too damn hot to be law enforcement!"

"Good save Mikey boy. Are you sure you didn't set Davey up? If you did," she threatens.

Michael holds up his hands in surrender, red with ketchup. Mary sees Lucas turn pale and close his eyes.

"Lucas? What's wrong?" She takes his hand and moves closer, her anger gone. Lucas takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. "Flashback. I'm okay now."

Michael turns his palms toward him and remembers when his hands were covered in his friend's blood. An image that haunts his nights. Returning to the here and now is the best way to help his friend. That and getting his hands clean. "To answer your question Mary, I didn't set him up. I met him at a GA meeting and we got to talking. We'd go out for beers after a meeting sometimes. He was worried when he saw those guys following me. I couldn't tell him that I wanted them to follow me."

After a moment, Mary agrees. "Guess not." She tosses her burger wrapper in the trash.

A man in scrubs enters carrying a clipboard. "Mr. Provo?"

"That's me." Lucas raises his hand.

"I see you know our reputation for fine dining," he says indicating the take out remains. "I hope you don't see it again. The pain meds and antibiotics can cause nausea and vomiting."

The doctor checks the bandage on Lucas' head. "This needs to stay dry and bandaged. Use fresh dressings as often as needed. Same for the one on your calf." He looks at Mary and Michael. "Who will be staying with you tonight?"

"He's coming with me," Mary assures the doctor.

"Keep an eye on him, check his color and breathing every two hours at first then every four hours." He finishes signing the papers and hands them to Lucas. "See the nurse on your way out. She'll have printed instructions and prescriptions for you."

"Thanks Doc." When the doctor leaves, Lucas whispers to Mary. "Nice save. I don't need a baby sitter."

"Where do you think you're going?" Mary scowls at him. She's angry that he didn't tell her about Mikey but she's looking forward to giving him orders. Just to make sure he recovers so she can kick his ass.

Lucas grabs his ripped pants and doesn't wait for Mary to turn her back. "My place. Where else would I go?"

"No." She stands with her arms crossed, oblivious to his tighty whities. "Uh uh. You're going to my house where I can keep an eye on you like the doc said. I'm used to being up every two hours with a teething toddler. You can't be any worse."

Lucas winks. "Oh I can be much worse." Then he adds, seriously, "Really Mary, I'll be fine."

"Yes you will because you are staying with me." As he fastens his pants she turns her back and heads to the corridor. "Uh Mary, aren't you forgetting something?"

Mary looks around and doesn't notice anything missing. "How are we getting to your place? We left your car at the café, remember?"

Mary gives him a smug smile. "It pays to have friends in low places. C'mon." He follows her through the double doors. Once outside Mary clicks the car alarm fob and gets a chirp and flash of lights. "This way. Mikey? You need a ride?"

"Nyah. Take good care of my buddy." Michael salutes and walks out to his car.


	10. Lets Spend the Night Together

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

* * *

Provoked Too– Chapter 10 – Let's Spend the Night Together

Lucas sits up in the passenger seat of Mary's minivan eyeing the neighborhood. He had never been to Mary's house. "You know you don't have to do this."

Mary shrugs and unbuckles. "Call me sentimental, but when a guy gets shot twice saving my witness I feel obligated, even if he is a liar."

"I didn't lie to you. Before I ran into him at that bar I didn't even know Michael was in town."

As soon as they are through the door Mary is turning on lights and heading to the back of the house. She hollers over her shoulder, "I've got some sweats that should fit you." He's barely limping as he follows her down the hall. Mary sees him checking out the place and smirks. "Bug isn't here. She's with Mark."

Lucas pouts. "Damn. I thought I'd get to spend the night with the two most beautiful girls in Albuquerque."

Mary rolls her eyes. "Quit trying to butter me up, Pinocchio. You'd love waking up to her cries an hour after you've finally gotten to sleep." She points, "Guest room's here. Bathroom's there. Don't use all the hot water. Here are some towels. Go." She pushes him toward the bathroom. "I'll leave the sweats outside the door."

"You're still mad." He hopes she'll get over her snit and accept why he had to keep her in the dark. "Thanks for the uh, clothes and the shower. Hospitals make me smell bad."

"Really, I thought it was the fear sweat." Lucas doesn't protest because she's already pissed. Mary focuses on his head. "Wait a minute." She comes back with a plastic shower cap. "Wear this. It will keep your bandage dry. When you get your pants off I'll wrap your leg."

"Now who wants to get in who's pants?" Lucas teases.

"Lame, Lucas. Lame." Mary twits. It's what the doctor ordered but it feels strange to have a man in her house again.

"Yes I am." He limps into the bathroom before she can punch him.

Mary gets the plastic wrap and leans against the wall next to the bathroom door. She closes her eyes and fatigue overwhelms her. Lucas isn't the only one who smells bad. All she wants is a shower and her bed.

"Mary? Mary!"

"What." When she jerks awake when the bathroom door opens. Lucas is wearing the mandated shower cap and a towel, and only a towel. He sticks his leg out, and Mary eyes the bandage on his calf. She squats and wraps it firmly, avoiding the injury. Then she makes the mistake of looking up. Lucas pulls the towel tight across his groin.

"No peeking!"

"Hey," Mary complains. "This job should have a few perks!"

Lucas puts his hand on her neck as she stands and pulls her close. "Shower first Missy, then you can sample the merchandise."

"You wish," Mary retorts.

Lucas smiles. He certainly does. Finally in the shower Lucas washes the stench and blood off his body. He wishes he could wash his hair. Maybe he can ask Mary? He grabs the sweats and dresses quickly. Mary is nowhere to be seen. He peeks across the hall and sees her splayed out, over the covers. Her hair is damp so she's gotten a shower at least. He pulls the covers over her, making a Mary taco. _I know enough to let sleeping dogs lie._

He takes a tour of the house. _Must be Norah's room. Jeeze I thought my niece had a lot of stuff!_ The fireplace in the front room catches his eye. That could be romantic and cozy, but not with an inquisitive toddler. He ends up in the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water then heads back to check on Mary when he hears a phone ringing and tracks it to the laundry room. He digs through the pile on the washer and finds the phone in her pants pocket.

"Mary's phone." If it's important he'll wake her.

"Who is this?" An angry voice demands. Lucas looks at the phone id. "Marshall, it's Lucas. We just got back from the hospital."

"Hospital? Is Mary hurt?" It wouldn't be the first time Inspector Shannon hid an injury.

"No, it was just me and thanks for your concern," Lucas replies acerbically. "Mary's fine, just exhausted. She insisted that I stay with her so here I am." There's an innocent explanation for his presence at Mary's but he'll be damned if he'll tell Marshall. Let him wonder.

"I'm sorry to hear you were injured." His reply is mere courtesy, not actual concern. "Where's Norah?"

"With her father. They're both okay. Is there anything you need me to tell Mary? I can wake her if it's important."

Marshall can't help picturing Mary in bed with Lucas. "No. Nothing that can't wait."

"Good night then."

Lucas sets her phone to vibrate and leaves it on the nightstand. She doesn't waken when he kisses her cheek. "G'night Mary. Sweet dreams," he whispers. Tired but wired, he sits on the couch with a blanket from the guest room, standing guard for his warrior woman.

He's awakened by the slamming of a door and a muted, "Shit." Mary tiptoes into the front room. "Sorry, Lucas. I didn't mean to wake you. You should be in the guest bedroom with the door closed."

"I know." He croaks huskily, then clears his throat. "Bad habit from my battalion days - sitting guard duty the night after a battle."

Mary nods sympathetically. "You want coffee? Or you want to go to the guest room for some actual sleep?"

Lucas checks his watch. "It's the middle of the night. What are you doing up? You look like you're ready for work."

Mary gulps her coffee. "I am. I've got stuff that has to be taken care of ASAP. I should be able to come home as soon as I finish. You gonna stick around?"

Lucas rubs his stubbly chin. "I dunno. How about if I go home and you call me when you're done?"

"Can I drop you off?"

"Nyah. I'll catch a cab. You go and do what you gotta do. But first. . . ." He stands and puts his hand behind Mary's neck, "I need you to forgive me. I never intended to lie to you. You know that, right?"

"I guess."

"And as the man who helped rescue your witness I deserve a reward." Mary squints her eyes and purses her lips. _What the hell, he earned it_. It starts out chaste but tender and soon threatens to become something else, something way too passionate for this late. Or is it this early, she wonders.

Mary pulls away with difficulty, "I gotta go!"

Lucas gives her one last hug then drops his arms. "Drive safe."

Driving to the Sunshine building Mary wonders if it is Lucas or the caffeine making her heart pound.


	11. Hell Hath No Fury

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

* * *

Provoked Too– Chapter 11 – Hell Hath No Fury

Mary's at her desk in the wee hours of the morning getting Davey's papers ready for his 5 AM transfer. She meets with Davey's new Inspectors and goes with them to Davey's apartment. He isn't thrilled with the early morning wake up either. Thank God Norah is with Mark. If Bug was home she'd never be able to do this. With Davey on his way, Mary feels justified in going home, wondering if her overnight guest has left.

* * *

The office is sunny and most of the Inspectors are at their desks. "Where's Mary," Marshall asks Delia.

Delia looks up. "Didn't she call you?"

"No, Didn't she tell you where she was going this morning?"

"Nope, sorry Chief. I haven't heard from her."

He knows she had a rough time yesterday but she could at least call. When lunchtime comes and goes without a word from her he is beyond aggravated. The other Inspectors already think Mary gets preferential treatment. This just proves it. Dammit, she has to follow the rules like everyone else! She should have called. His stomach burns as he wonders how much sleep she got with Lucas in her bed.

Marshall has his phone in hand when Mary cards herself into the office. Her hair is a mess, her white button up court blouse is askew and there is murder in her eyes. Dealing with Mary in this state could mean bruises. He longs for a sports cup, but metaphorically girds his loins to confront his late Inspector. This time he needs witnesses. He walks over to her desk where she stands burrowing through her bag, fuming.

Arms akimbo, jacket rucked to the back he stands in her way when she heads for the break room. "Is there some reason why you can't call when you aren't going to be at work on time?"

Mary cocks her head and squints at him. Just as he thinks she's not going to answer she starts quietly. "I would have been here on time **if your fucking fiancée hadn't pulled me over and arrested me!"** Even the marshals around the corner, hell on the next floor could hear that.

Marshall drops his arms. His hands flounder like freshly caught fish. "What? Why would she do that?"

Mary shoves her messenger bag onto her desk and glares. "She accused me of being in cahoots with her gun runner. What in the hell did you tell your southern fried Avon lady?"

Marshall splutters. "I didn't tell her anything. I never tell her anything."

"Guess that's why she has to **make stuff** **up**! Took me two damn hours to get that defective detective to call the AUSA."

If Abigail arrested Mary he can't defend her but there has to be more to it.

"Mare, my office," he commands "I need details."

For once she doesn't bristle when he uses her first name. "I need coffee!" she tosses her head and grabs a cup.

"Okay, sure." Marshall looks to see who heard Mary's outburst and groans. Seems like every Inspector is busy pretending to work. _Great example of leadership Doofus_ – not knowing your own Inspector had been arrested? Why in hell didn't Abigail call?

Mary takes her time getting coffee, hitting the restroom and even brushing her hair and tucking in her shirt. Marshall uses the time to make a few phone calls. He checks on Davey first. He's safely on his way. Next he calls the AUSAs office and gets referred to Mr. Bailey who had sprung Mary. He wants to call ATF because they will have information on the gun runner but Mary's striding into his office loaded for bear.

She's working to slow her breathing trying to calm down, reminding herself that Marshall isn't Abigail and that he didn't ask his little miss perfect to arrest her. At least she wants to believe that.

"Sit down Mare, uh, Inspector." Wouldn't do to rile her by addressing her informally. "Now, tell me what happened this morning."

Mary gives him a blow by blow description of the indignities inflicted on her by the detective – being arrested on a public street, being forced to walk through the station in handcuffs. Damn Abigail wouldn't even show her the courtesy of covering the cuffs with her jacket. At least they kept her in an interrogation room instead of a holding cell.

She's run out of expletives and sits, shoulders slumped, sipping her coffee. "On the plus side, citizens at the station will think I'm a criminal and not a US Marshal."

What's wrong with her? Why would she even try to put a positive spin on this? Marshall thinks about sending her home but doesn't think she'll go. And he doesn't want to be seen giving Mary special treatment. It's bad enough the other Inspectors heard what happened. Despite yesterday's shoot out Davey's transport papers were completed for his early morning hand off.

"Thank you Inspector." Mary escapes and shuffles out of his office and dropping into her desk chair, cradling her coffee.

Marshall is formulating what to say to his fiancée. How dare she? Just because he can't tell her about his job doesn't mean she has to shut him out when it involves his Inspector. Maybe he shouldn't be talking to Abigail at all. Marshall grabs his badge and Glock and storms out of the office.

Albuquerque Police Department, Office of the Police Chief, Gordon Paradiso

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice," Marshall reaches over the desk to shake the chief's hand, then perches on the indicated chair, ready for battle.

Chief Paradiso returns to his seat behind a gray metal desk. He's a grizzled veteran, his tanned hide marking him as a candidate for skin cancer. "I thought you'd be here sooner. Didn't your Inspector call you?"

Marshall coughs nervously. "Inspector Shephard thought it was a bureaucratic error that would be corrected. And it was, just not as soon as she thought."

"I see." Chief Paradiso sifts through some reports on his desk and glances at Marshall. "Are you here to file a formal complaint?"

Marshall sits back mollified by the police chief's conciliatory attitude. "I'd like to get all the facts first. Tell me what you know about the events that lead to her arrest."

The chief hands him a PD report. When Marshall finishes reading he looks at Paradiso. "That explains why she was arrested. Hell, according to this I should have been arrested."

"Yup," Paradiso agrees. "Now read this one"

Marshall studies the nondescript cover. "This isn't from your office."

"No. It's from ATF." Abigail hadn't told Marshall ATF was there. He skims the pages one by one. If he didn't know better he'd swear they were two different incidents.

"So the 'civilians' Mary is accused of bringing? "

"An ATF agent, and according to this," the Chief squints at his copy of the report, "a provisional US Marshal?"

Marshall shakes his head. He's never heard of a Provisional Marshal but he isn't going to let Abigail's boss know that. Lucas' client is an ATF agent? No wonder he brought the party favors.

"What do you think accounts for the discrepancies?" Marshall can't imagine why Abigail would go off half cocked like this. It's not her style.

Police Chief Paradiso sits back in his chair and steeples his fingers examining the ceiling. "That involves one of your Inspectors," he turns to look at Marshall. "Just not the one in that report."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Marshall has done his best to manage the odd lot of Inspectors that report to him. He's angry about Mary's treatment but what is the Chief inferring?

"According to my sources, an Inspector Coldwell put my detective on the scent. He told her he couldn't go to you with the information because you were involved. Detective Chafee has been following 'the Boss' for months. Coldwell said that Inspector Shephard and a couple of her friends were working for the Boss. He showed her photos."

"That doesn't make any sense. Doesn't Caldwell know Abigail and I are engaged?"

The Chief shrugs. "Evidently not. He did know that Detective Chaffee had argued with your Inspector Shephard. Maybe that's why he picked her."

What a mess. Did Caldwell do this just to get revenge? When had Mary and Abigail argued? Who had followed Mary and taken pictures? "And you trust this 'source?'"

The police chief nods. "I've seen the photos. They are taken too far away to be clear. The woman has a blonde ponytail, so it could be your Inspector. The men?" The chief shrugs. "They could be anyone." Then why was it enough to convince Abigail?

Marshall stands and shakes the chief's hand. "Thank you for your time. If you hear anything else regarding any of my Inspectors, please call me." Marshall strides out. He has an Inspector to confront.

As he nears the exit, Marshall hears the chief's public address system announcement: "Detective Chaffee. My office."

If the ATF report is accurate he needs to apologize to Mary, big time. But as soon as he steps foot in his office Stan calls. "What in the hell did Mary get herself into this time? Did you know the director himself got a call from ATF? They told him Mary's intervention was just the 'initiative' they needed to break the case wide open." Stan stops to catch his breath. "After the firefight one of Boss' gang decided to testify. Seeing Mary in action convinced him the marshals could protect him. You should be seeing him soon."

"Honestly Stan, I'm confused. The PD report makes it sound as if Mary and I were working with the Boss, the gun runner Abigail's been tracking. Chief Paradiso said Caldwell had given Abigail that information. What do you know about Caldwell?"

"He looks good on paper but the Phoenix Chief suspected Caldwell was involved in something. Just couldn't catch him in the act. With the office closing he wasn't able to focus on one Inspector."

"You've read the ATF report? What do you make of it? Mary looks like a goddamn hero."

"Yeah," sighs Stan. "I know she's good but they laid it on pretty thick. There's something else going on there. Maybe they're praising her to divert attention from someone else. Best case: an undercover agent. Worst case: corruption. Let's hope it's an undercover operation."

Marshall hums. "Uh huh."

"You know about that?" Stan interprets Marshall's response as knowing something more.

"Not as such, but that scenario does fit with certain recent events."

"Keep your ears open and your nose clean. This could still blow up in your face. It could implicate Mary, and not in a good way. The nail that sticks up is the one that gets pounded down."

"Thanks Stan." Even though he was no longer their Chief, Stan was still looking out for them.

As he was getting coffee Marshall heard the other Inspectors chatter. They were discussing the ABQPD report and wondering why Mary had been released. This would never do. He got an unclassified version of the ATF report and sent it to all his Inspectors as an 'instructive example' of interagency cooperation. Despite being heavily redacted, any Inspector worth his salt would connect the dots to Mary. Fortunately, it didn't say anything about Michael or Lucas or their status. _Provisional Marshal my ass!_

It took several days before the grumbling in the office died down. Mary and Delia are both in the office when they see a courier deliver a large bubble wrapped packet. "That's from DC," Delia confides. "I've seen packages like that before."

Marshall takes delivery and retreats to his office to open the packet. Mary and Delia hear him groan then bellow. "What the hell?" He's loud enough to be heard through his closed office door. Mary stands for a better view.

"What did you do now Mary?" Delia asks.

Mary shrugs and frowns. "Why do you assume it's me?"

Delia just stares at her. Mary sits down and goes back to her files.

Meanwhile, Marshall is questioning the so called intelligence of the US Marshals and the entire DoJ. The padded folio revealed a calligraphy commendation with its embossed gold seal. What in the world is Mary to do with it? What part of security breach didn't they understand? As he's pondering that problem his office phone rings. "Chief Inspector Mann."

"Marshall, it's Lucas."

"How are you feeling?" Marshall feels guilty for blowing the guy off the last time they talked. According to the police report Lucas was shot twice.

"I'm fine. Nothing serious. Just bled like a stuck pig. Uh. . . thanks for asking. I'm calling because I want to talk to you – get the facts straight – and I'd rather not do it in your office. Meet me tonight for drinks at Two Fools." He hesitates and clears his throat. "Sorry Marshall, I'm used to giving orders, Consider this an invitation."

Marshall does consider it. There's a lot he wants to say to Lucas, he's not sure Two Fools is the proper setting. He's picturing a boxing ring. "Tonight is fine, but let's meet at the bar where you met Michael." He wants to see the place for himself and try to understand its allure. Besides, too many law enforcement types hang out at Two Fools.

"Okay, sure. I'll be there after 6," Lucas promises.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the review Meg and guest. Even if only you two are reading this was fun to write.


	12. Lucas v Marshall

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

* * *

Provoked Too – Chapter 12 – Lucas v. Marshall

Six o'clock came and went as Lucas sat in the Halfway Bar sipping his second watery beer. He studies the label so he'd never make the mistake of ordering it again. Grim looking men filter into the bar getting their usual poison. Lucas surveys the room looking for former military. None of the young ones appear to have served, but there is a middle-aged man who wears the haunted look of a combat veteran. Just as Lucas decides to approach him the door opens and Mary's former partner, _former friend?_ strides in.

Lucas leaves his seat and stands next to Marshall at the bar. "Took you long enough."

Marshall frowns. "We don't exactly keep banker's hours." Marshall asks the bartender what's on tap, but Lucas uses his foot to tap Marshall's boot and shakes his head. Marshall takes the hint and orders a bottled brew. While waiting for his drink he takes a minute to look at the man. The only sign of his injuries is a pink line on his scalp, not unusual in this crowd.

"Look I don't want to start off on the wrong foot. First of all, I want to apologize." Of all the things Marshall expected to hear from the former JAG lawyer, this wasn't it.

"General Halsted demands loyalty and he gives it in spades. I called him about the mess with Mary and Michael. I didn't expect him to stick his nose in quite so deep. I also didn't know he plays squash with your Director," he admits chagrined. "I can't take the blame for the ATF report though. Those guys had nothing but praise for Mary. She provided the distraction they needed to take down the entire gang. They think the whole thing had been arranged by Michael. For all I know, it was. I'm sorry about the blowback. I had no idea how your Director would react."

"React? His reaction was a commendation for Mary and condemnation for me!"

"Oh come on. It's not that bad. Hers is in writing, yours isn't." Lucas raises his beer and takes a sip giving Marshall a moment to think about that. "I'm not saying you didn't deserve it for trying to hang her out to dry. I'm just saying it's not permanent. It's not on your record."

"I didn't try to 'hang her out to dry!" Marshall protests.

Lucas blinks then stares. "C'mon let's sit." Marshall reluctantly follows him to a table facing the door with a clear line of sight to the bathroom and back door.

"You may not have framed her but your fiancée tried. Why in the hell would she do that?"

Marshall sits and takes a minute to survey the room. "I had no idea Abigail was going to arrest Mary," he mutters hoarsely. "She had intel that implicated me so she couldn't tell me. After all the work related stuff I keep from her, she probably felt justified. And if she really believed I was involved she would have been right."

The lawyer assesses Marshall and decides he's telling the truth. "She thought you were involved in large scale gun smuggling? How long has she known you?"

Marshall hangs his head and sighs. He's wondering the same thing, only in reverse. Does he really know Abigail?

When he doesn't respond, Lucas asks, "Where did the intel come from?"

Marshall decides Lucas deserves the whole story, and as a 'Provisional Marshal' there's no reason not to tell him. "According to her chief, it came from a marshal Mary worked with a while ago. They didn't get along."

Lucas snorts. "You mean he screwed up, she called him on it and raked him over the coals probably with an audience." Lucas fills in the blanks.

"You seem to know Mary well," Marshall looks sidelong at the man who seems more than her friend. Did Mary tell Lucas? When Lucas doesn't bite he admits, "That's pretty much what happened. He was embarrassed, but she was right. He almost got a…" Marshall hesitates "someone killed. Mary took it personally."

"Sounds like Mary. So this asswipe got his feelings hurt and decides to frame Mary."

Marshall nods. "That's what the AUSA thinks. You know about that, don't you?"

Lucas mouth is a grim line. He barely nods.

Who is this man who has insinuated himself into Mary and Norah's lives? Without trying he managed to turn Marshall's career upside down. Why has he been given carte blanche to meddle in WITSEC? He's glad Mary had someone to watch her back in that warehouse, but it should have been him.

"That Provisional Marshal crap." Lucas interrupts his ruminations. "That was uncalled for. Don't worry about it. It doesn't mean anything and I can't imagine every invoking it."

"Even if Mary's in danger?" Marshall asks pointedly.

Lucas looked at him sharply. "Watching her back is her partners job, and yours. You do your job and I won't have to."

"Is that a threat?" Marshall growls.

"Only if you take it that way," Lucas retorts. Then he rotates his shoulders to relieve the tension. "That's not what I want to talk to you about." Lucas puts both hands on the table, pushing his beer bottle to the center. "I want to talk to you about Mary."

Still feeling defensive and guilty Marshal bristles. "I don't talk about the personal lives of my Inspectors."

"Nor do I want you to. I want you to listen." He takes a deep breath. "The first time I met Mary I was intrigued. She's a damn enigma."

Marshall sighs. "Her ex-fiancé once asked how she could burn so hot and be so cold." Does Lucas know she was engaged? Does he know she'd been married? How much has Mary shared with this man?

She must have shared that because Lucas isn't surprised. "Fire and ice, that's part of her allure. But not all of it. She's strong and fragile at the same time. Mary is the reason I'm in Albuquerque. I want to see if we have a future, but I'm not kidding myself. It isn't going to happen overnight, and with you still in the picture it may never happen."

"What do you mean 'in the picture?' Mary and I were partners. We used to be friends. Now we're just Chief and Inspector," he spits out. "Last Saturday was the first time I'd seen Norah in months! Do you have any idea how quickly babies change?"

"Yes, I do. Did you know that was the first time I met Norah?"

"Really? She took to you like an old friend." Marshall bitterly recalls his own tepid reception. "Mary is an expert at sabotaging her relationships. It's always push pull with her."

"I can see that," Lucas agrees. "Raph, you, that FBI douche. . . ."

"She told you about that?" Marshall knew Mary was embarrassed about Faber.

"Yeah," Lucas shakes his head ruefully. "Did you know she got him and his wife back together? They're still married and he's living with his wife and son. Because of her, he has a family."

Marshall stops, his beer halfway to his mouth. "I had no idea they kept in touch." They sit in silence and drink.

Lucas enunciates slowly, clearly. "You've got to let Mary go."

"You mean like she let me go? She took a knife and cut me out of her life, out of Norah's life." Marshall protests bitterly.

"That's not the way she tells it. She says you asked her to butt out. And that she realized 'how much crap' she had dumped on you over the years. She's determined to keep you out of her family's 'complications,' and," he nods wryly, "that includes Norah." He brings the bottle to his lips. "She's not into accepting help from anyone."

"You got that right." Marshall grimaces after tasting his own brew. "She always insists on doing everything alone. Even after we became partners, I was still working alone. It was months before she'd actually work _with_ me."

"You mean she'd only tell you the things that most directly affected a witness?" Just like now, Marshall thinks. They'd come such a long way only to be back where they started.

Marshall gives Lucas a dirty look and cranes his neck to see if anyone heard. Lucas is unabashed and harrumphs, "I'm a lawyer. I deal with witnesses all the time."

Marshall concedes he's probably being paranoid and gets back to his real concern. "Why do you think I can come between you and Mary."

"Not between Mary and I, more like between Mary and herself. She's not confident that she can be a mom. She's learning how to work with a partner who isn't you. Those are major adjustments. And from what she's told me, she's not sure it's worth the effort." He coughs. "Not the mom part. She's committed to Norah heart and soul."

Marshall always knew Mary would be a good mother. It was Mary who needs to be convinced.

"Marshall," Lucas leans across the table. "You've got to let her go, let her find her own way, develop a new comfort zone, accept her competence as a mother as well as an Inspector."

"And exactly how do you propose I let her go? We work together."

"Let her transfer." Marshall had just taken a draught and nearly choked.

"Transfer? She wants to leave?" He hadn't seen any sign of that and he'd been paying attention. He knew Mary should be looking for a safer job, one with regular hours. Mary's good at her job. Now she even does the bits he used to do. She doesn't need him anymore. She never did.

"Marshall?" Lucas tries to jog him out of his glum reaction. "You should be asking yourself why you feel that way about Mary transferring. She's one of many Inspectors under your command. Employees move all the time. Why would Mary's leaving be any different?"

Marshall chokes, and finally spits out. "Mary has the experience. There's no one in the office with her experience."

Lucas rebuts logically. "And when she leaves others will get that experience."

"She can be tough. So many of our," Marshall stumbles over the word not used to using it outside the office, "witnesses respond to that."

"So, someone else can be tough. I'm sure you can coach them." His inflection taunts Marshall, doubting his ability.

Marshall bristles then head droops and whines, "But there's no one like Mary."

"Of course not. But you've learned to live without her in your personal life. You can live without her in your professional life. You're happy now, right? You're engaged, planning a wedding. You've got to give her the chance to get past losing you and stop moping."

"Moping!?" Marshall cries. "Mary doesn't mope."

"Yeah well call it what you will but I've only seen that sparkle in her eyes, that mischief, around you and Norah. She tolerates me, maybe even finds me acceptable, but her heart still belongs to you, even if she doesn't know it."

Now Marshall looks at Lucas as if he's totally out of his mind. "Mary never loved me."

"No, you're wrong. Mary never _knew_ she loved you. She never acknowledged it," Lucas seems certain. "But that doesn't mean she doesn't love you. Or that she doesn't know it now."

Marshall looks out from under his hair. "Why are you doing this? If she transfers, what happens to your law practice?"

Lucas shrugs. "If she'll have me, I'll follow her. There are veterans everywhere."

Marshall inhales stunned to hear his conclusions about Lucas confirmed by the man himself. His voice trembles, "I don't know if I can let her go."

"I know," Lucas finishes his beer and stands. "You need to think about what that means. Thanks for coming." Lucas looks around the room. "Be careful. Once they've had a few drinks these guys are happy to take their troubles out on someone else."

"I know," Marshall answers. Tonight he's one of them.


	13. Marshall v Abigail

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

* * *

Provoked Too– Chapter 13 – Marshall v. Abigail

"Marshall?" Abigail's voice carries from the living room. She's curled up on the recliner with a book she's pretending to read. "I thought you said you'd be home early. Are you hungry Sugarbear? I made a plate for you."

Is she actually going to pretend that nothing happened today? He hangs up his jacket and puts his gun in the safe. After what he learned from the police chief he might shoot her.

"How was your day?" he asks innocently, looking down on her, glaring. "Besides getting reamed out by the Chief of Police?"

Abigail slaps the book closed and glares at him. "Of course you'd hear about that."

"Of course I would." She expected him, to shout, instead his tone is flat. "You arrested one of my Inspectors risking her life and the lives of others." He raises his voice, "What in the hell were you thinking?"

Abigail jumps up, hands on hips. "I was thinking Mary was working with a terrorist to bring guns into Albuquerque!"

"And where in the hell did you get that idea?" Even after reading ABQPD's after action report and talking to the police chief he couldn't figure out how Abigail had reached that conclusion.

"An informant brought me proof. It's one of your own Inspectors." Arms crossed she raises her chin defiantly. "He showed me evidence that Mary was working with members of the Boss's gang," she spat at him.

"Caldwell?" He raises his voice. After talking to the Police Chief, Marshall knows it's him but he wants to hear it from her. "Did you check out that douchebag? Did you even _think_ to talk to another Inspector, or me?" He raises his voice, "Did it ever occur to you that your _informant_ had an axe to grind and was trying to frame her?"

She drops her arms. "I did check on him. He has a good reputation and his personnel record is clean."

"That's because he's a master manipulator and blackmailer. I checked too Abigail. There are things not in his record that you should have known and you would have if you had talked to me. What if Mary was working undercover? Huh?"

"But she wasn't," Abigail insists. "Besides, you kept on asking me about the Boss. I figured you knew who was leaking the Border Patrol schedules. I know your office has access. Caldwell said you could be the leak. As my fiancé you could just ask me about it. And you did. Every time we were together you'd ask about the investigation!"

Marshall throws his hands in the air. "Oh my God. I was making conversation, asking my fiancée about her day. You thought I was pumping you for information? Even if I was, I don't share work related information, yours or mine. Why would I?"

Abigail drops her eyes. "Because you were being blackmailed."

Marshall blinks. That's an answer he didn't expect. If he was talking to Mary he'd know just what she'd say, what she was thinking. But this is Abigail, an Abigail he doesn't know. "Who would blackmail me? With what?"

Abigail thumps down into the recliner. "Your affair with Mary. When Caldwell said he had proof, photos, I was sure they were of you and Mary."

"Abigail, I have told you repeatedly, Mary and I have never been intimate. Never! Why would you believe him and not me?" He's pacing now. "Did he ever show you any incriminating photos of Mary and I?"

Abigail drops her gaze. "No," she responds in a small voice.

" **Because there aren't any!** " he bends down till they are face to face.

She looks up sheepish, but determined. "If Mary was involved, you had to know. He showed me photos of Mary with those men, the Boss' men. I didn't want to believe it, but it all fit with what I knew about his gang."

"Why would I know if Mary was involved?" Marshall is looking for a shred of honesty, of concern for him, for them.

"Because she works for you!" He backs up when Abigail leans forward. "She's your Inspector and your lov- friend."

Marshall turns on his heel and puts his hands on his hips. "So I'm either a lousy fiancé or a lousy Chief? Is that it? You never _detected_ that he was making it up? He stalked Mary. Those photos you saw? He staged them. Did you recognize any of the men? What did facial recognition show? Did you even check to see if the photos were manipulated?"

"I didn't send them to the lab, if that's what you mean, but I did examine them carefully. Besides, I didn't want the lab guys to know." She swallows.

"I've seen those photos. What did they show? Did you even try to run facial recognition? If you had you'd know that the resolution is too low. You can barely make out a blonde ponytail and some people in pants! It could be anyone. Some detecting Detective." He turns his back on her fuming. "Defective detective."

Abigail protests. "We were so close to getting the Boss, shutting down his whole operation. Then Mary and her boyfriends blunder into that warehouse like a bull in a china shop and everyone starts shooting."

"Were you even there?" Marshall snarks.

"Were you?" Score one for Abigail.

"That's not the point Abigail. You took the word of a stranger over mine. I thought you knew me, knew my character and Mary's. You accepted Caldwell's 'proof' and didn't even **ask** me!" he pauses, getting his anger under control. "If you think I'm a crook why are you still here? Why didn't you arrest me?"

"Because I was going to feed you some false intel," she confesses. "If it was acted on, then I'd know you were the leak. I didn't assume you were. I needed proof and I was going to get it. I didn't take his word."

Marshall sneers, "Did you think of that all by yourself? Or was it Caldwell's idea." Her downcast expression as she turns away from his piercing gaze tells him all he needs to know.

"Didn't it occur to you that if Caldwell gave you the _information_ he could make your ' _proof'_ happen? I thought you were smarter than that Abigail. Or did you think I was a really clever crook?"

"You're no criminal, Sugarbear," she concedes. "You were caught between a rock and a hard place, or maybe you had some sort of clever sting planned. Maybe something Mary cooked up. Everyone knows Mary has you wrapped around her finger. And if it wasn't a sting, it had to be blackmail."

"Caldwell said I was being blackmailed?"

Abigail nods.

"For the record Mary does not have me wrapped around her finger." How could Abigail believe that and accept his engagement ring?

"Everyone says she does," Abigail protests, unable to look him in the eyes.

"Who is everyone? Name one."

"Caldwell," she offers, knowing it's weak. "But I'd heard about you and Mary long before."

"Why would Caldwell know? He hasn't even been in Albuquerque six months. Why didn't you ask me?"

"I couldn't. Not if you were involved." Abigail rubs her clasped hands over and over. "When we first met, I checked you out. Several PD officers warned me about 'Mary and her one-man entourage.' But I gave you the benefit of the doubt and was pleased when you seemed interested. You were sweet, courteous and seemed honest. I didn't know what to make of the rumors. And then I met Mary." She shakes her head. "I can't understand why anyone could be attracted to that prickly cactus. How could anyone think you two were together? You argued constantly. I was told it was an act-to hide your relationship."

"Really? I told you about her when we met. I told you she was my partner and she would check you out. Because she has my back. Why did you buy all the crap Caldwell was peddling?" No wonder the other Inspectors believe it. "We were partners. She has never ever lied to me. I know her too well." He stalks away to keep from grabbing Abigail and shaking her.

Abigail smugly poses a question. "Since you know her so well, has she put in for a transfer?"

"No." The mere idea makes him wince.

"She told you?" Marshall said Mary doesn't talk to him.

"No." Monosyllabic answers keep him from shouting.

"There!" Abigail crows triumphantly. "If she could lie about that. . . . "

"She didn't lie, Abigail. I told you she should be looking. I told her she should be looking. She'll let me know when she decides."

"How would you know if she hasn't talked to you? Did Delia tell you?"

"No." Mary knows anything she shares could be broadcast by the office water cooler.

"Aha, Lucas." Abigail says grimly.

"Aha Lucas what?" he replies, exasperated.

"Lucas must have told you," Abigail contends. "She's been spending a lot of time with him. If she told anyone it would be him."

Yes it would be, it was, Marshall concedes but he isn't giving Abigail the satisfaction of verifying her conclusion. "What's going to happen next?"

"What do you mean?" Abigail asks fearfully. She's already suspended. Does he think they'll throw her off the force or demote her?

"At work, what's going to happen to you? I heard Chief Paradiso call you into his office."

Abigail turns her head unable to face him. "That's why I'm home. I'm suspended for two weeks without pay pending investigation."

Marshall thinks that's fairly light punishment. Abigail's lucky no lives were lost. If Mary had gotten hurt he'd never forgive her.

"Have you seen the ATF report?" he asks. "Don't you think it strange that it's so different from the one you submitted?"

"You mean the incident report written by Mary's biggest fan? God Marshall it reads as if she did exactly the right thing at the right time! What bullshit! She sticks her nose in where it doesn't belong, destroying months of planning and she gets rewarded? Why was she even there?"

Gritting his teeth Marshall's lips barely move. "She was doing her job!"

"And the two civilians with her?" Abigail's determined to lay the blame where it belongs.

Marshall's seething. "Did you even know ATF was there? Did you **read** their report? If you did you'd know they are not civilians."

She peers at him out of the corner of her eyes. "The version I got was redacted. It didn't say anything about the two men with her."

"Then you know I can't tell you much, but I can tell you that I know for a fact those men are not civilians. They had authorization to be there."

"From where? From who?" Abigail demands.

"That I can tell you but you won't believe me." His confident statement makes Abigail even angrier. She crosses her arms over her chest defiantly.

"Try me," she demands.

"They were authorized by the Attorney General of the United States, **the** Attorney General **in** Washington."

Abigail drops her arms in disgust. "You're right. I don't believe you. If Mary has that kind of backing she could write her own ticket out of Albuquerque. Why is she still here?"

"That's a good question. If she was talking to me, I'd ask her." Marshall shouts the last words.

Abigail turns quickly and walks away angry.

Marshall decides he is definitely sleeping on the couch. He doesn't even want to be in the same house, but he's too worn out to find a place tonight. Maybe tomorrow.


	14. Commendations and Condemnations

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

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Provoked Too– Chapter 14 – Commendations and Condemnations

"Inspector Shannon, may I speak with you in my office?"

Mary had just settled at her desk and was going through a pile of yellow message slips. She hears Marshall and looks up. "Uh, okay. Be there in a minute Chief." She slowly levers herself out of her chair and shuffles to Marshall's office.

"Are you okay, Inspector? You're moving kind of slow today." Despite the changes in their friendship he still cares.

"If you mean a ruptured snail could beat me to the last doughnut, you're right," she groans. Marshall doesn't need to know about the bruising and sore muscles from the shootout and Abigail's rough treatment. Pasting a smile on her face she decides to head off any more questions. "Nothing to worry about Chief."

"Have a seat," Marshall offers then quickly backtracks. "Unless you're more comfortable standing?" She must have spent the night having sex with Lucas, celebrating his survival. Marshall is chagrined he'd even think that. It was inappropriate, even if true.

Mary sits gingerly. She's never felt comfortable in this office. Once seated she folds her hands demurely in her lap and waits. She knows her silence can fluster Marshall. Besides, he called this meeting.

"Uh," he begins nervously. "I want to apologize for assuming you chose to be late."

"You mean when I was 'unavoidably detained' by your fiancée?" She growls.

Marshall's frown is an admission of guilt. "Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

"Hard? Does this make it hard?" Mary says with a flutter of her eyelashes and a come-hither stare that will keep him from asking questions she doesn't want to answer.

"I mean the apology," he explains.

"Oh no," she asserts. "You're not getting out of this. I'm going to savor every moment. I wish we had bet so I could sing the song." She gets out her phone. "Now where is that video app?"

Marshall dips his head and chuckles. He'd missed this. He missed Mary. He gets the commendation out of his drawer and hands the padded folio to her. She takes it with her fingertips. "It won't explode will it?"

"Just open it Mary."

She reads it and her eyes bug out. "What the hell? Is this a joke? You've outdone yourself Chief." She runs her finger over the embossed seal and signature. "This looks like the Director's actual signature. When did you become a forger?"

Mary could handle insults with ease, but honors, not so much. "It's real Mare. The Director wants to thank you for busting the Boss's operation wide open. The timing of your intrusion allowed ATF and the FBI to capture him and most of his cronies. They have his shipment records and a list of serial numbers that were filed off the inventory they confiscated." He rises and extends his hand. "Good work Inspector."

Mary ignores him, so he sits down. "You're shittin' me. I was just doing my job, keeping Davey alive. I thought I was here so you could call me on the carpet. Instead I get a goddamn commendation?" She's looking at him not holding the folio so it starts to slip from her lap.

"Mare!" Marshall points.

"I got it, I got it." She stops the folio's downward slide, and studies the gilded calligraphy. "How many of the reprimands in my file does this cancel out?"

"None," Marshall smiles blithely. "They will cohabitate in your file forever, like the lion and the lamb they will lie down peacefully."

"So this goes in my file here?" She starts to hand it to him.

"No, that's yours."

She looks at him dumbfounded. "And what in the hell am I going to do with it? I can't hang it here, even if I had a wall to hang it on. The other Inspectors would shit bricks." She pauses for breath. "I know! I could have it framed and hang it over the fireplace at home. I can hear Jinx now. 'What's a WitSec Inspector?' What in the hell was the Marshal's office thinking?"

Marshall agrees wholeheartedly. The certificate is not only useless, in the wrong hands it could endanger Mary. "Just lock it in your drawer. You can take it out on bad days and use it to cheer yourself up."

"Or blind myself. I've never seen so much gold on a piece of paper." Mary's tilting the certificate back and forth.

"From what I've read, you deserve it."

Mary's smirks and closes the folio. "Yeah," she chuckles wryly. "You had to read about it since you're not allowed out of your fishbowl." She gloats, "I still get to do what _real_ marshals do."

Marshall gives her a worried frown. "If you had told me what was going on I would have been there." His expression brightens. "You do realize you it took **two** guys to fill the void caused by my absence."

Mary opens her mouth then shuts it. "Oh hell. This is as good a time as any. Chief, there's something I want to talk to you about."

Knowing she's going to tell him she's leaving, doesn't make it any easier. "Of course, my door is always open."

She bites her lip and stares at the wall behind him. "Don't let this go to your head, but this job, it isn't, it doesn't, it's just not the same. I've got Norah now and I knew going in that being a marshal is dangerous, but Norah . . . . " She looks up imploringly. "God I wish you still rented a room in my head! Then I wouldn't have to say this."

He smiles sympathetically.

She sits up straight and pulls her scattered wits together. "I need a job with regular hours. Where I can be home every night – or almost every night. If I can find a job like that in the Marshal Service that would be great, but if not, maybe it's time for a change. Private security or something?" He'd gone that route years ago.

Even though he expected it he can't stop himself. "God, Mare no. The office wouldn't be the same without you."

Mary counters with a sad smile. "You say that like it would be a bad thing. What I'm trying to say is that the job isn't the same without my partner, Inspector Mann."

Mary never gives compliments, especially not to him. "Awww Mare. Did you accidently say something nice about me?"

She blinks, sniffs and turns her head. "Accidents happen. Norah's proof of that."

"Seriously Mary, if that's what you want, I'll see what available. There are positions that aren't posted. Like ours. Do I have your permission to talk to Stan?"

Mary shrugs. "Sure, why not?"

"Listen Mare. I don't want you to think you have anything less than my full support on this. But before you bail on WITSEC, we need to nail the bastard who tried to frame you."

"What! Who? What are you talking about? No one framed me."

She really didn't know? "Yeah well it wasn't for lack of trying. Have you read ABQPD's report? Why do you think Abigail arrested you?"

Mary shrugs. "Damn if I know. Because she hates my guts?"

"Even you'll concede that Abigail usually adheres to professional standards. She was fed misinformation implicating you and me, by the way, as minions of the Boss. You weren't supposed to make it out of that warehouse alive. If you'd come alone, without Lucas and the ATF you would be dead."

"I know" she says in a small voice. "That's why I'm thinking of leaving. I want to be at Norah's graduation from kindergarten. Hell, I want to see her graduate from college. I gotta stay alive to do that." Her mood goes from maudlin to mad. "Why would Albuquerque PD think you and I were working for the Boss?"

Marshall appreciates that Mary said ABQPD and not Abigail. Instead of answering Marshall asks "What do you think of Caldwell?"

Mary purses her lips working to connect the dots. "He may not have lost all his marbles but there's definitely a hole in the bag."

"I haven't been impressed either. Three of his witnesses have complained. He doesn't always answer his phone, and he refused a witness's reasonable request." The witness he turned down called his former Inspector, Marshall.

"I need you to stay to gather enough evidence to get Caldwell out of the Marshall Service."

"And into prison." She wishes she had pushed harder to get Caldwell formally reprimanded. He deserved more than a letter in his file for endangering a witness.

"I agree. He stalked you, he compromised your identity. Who knows who else he compromised or what information he leaked? He's the bad apple that's spoiling the entire barrel."

Mary studied Marshall. She knew that look. Her mouth curves up a little. "What kind of trap do you have in mind for this rat?"

* * *

A/N: Thanks Meg my faithful reviewer. Thanks to everyone reading this. I appreciate your patience with the weekly posting schedule.


	15. Mann With a Plan

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

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Provoked Too– Chapter 15 – Mann With a Plan

Marshall's first step was to prove Caldwell had taken the photos of Mary. If he could show they were taken with Caldwell's phone it would be slam dunk. Caldwell struck him as smug and sloppy so there was a chance there was something incriminating on Caldwell's phone. After Mary left and the office emptied out Marshall crafted a plan. He wasn't speaking to Abigail so it didn't matter how late he stayed.

The next morning when most of the Inspectors are at their desks Marshall walks over to Caldwell. He needs witnesses for this. "Inspector Caldwell, I have a pleasant surprise for you," Marshall boomed. He looks around to see heads popping up. His hand holds a new Blackberry. "You have been selected to test drive this epitome of technology. It's been assigned to you and has all your witness's phone numbers and work numbers. All you need to do to take possession is to turn in your old one."

Caldwell looks around the office then reluctantly digs out his phone and hands it to Marshall. "I expect a report on this phone's usability and performance at the end of the month. Your comments will be used to decide if this model becomes standard issue."

As soon as Marshall is back in his office, Mary knocks on the door, then opens it. "That was too easy," she whispers.

"Close the door and stand there," Marshall points directly in front of him so she hides what he's doing. He has a plastic wedge in the seam of the phone. "I agree. He must have deleted the photos. But we know," he grunts and pushes until the back pops off, "they aren't really gone."

"You can undelete them?" Mary glances over her shoulder to see who's watching.

"If I can't I know someone who can." Marshall gets a magnifying glass. "Let's see whatcha got."

After a few moments of silent watching Mary whispers, "God Marshall, the way you are fondling that phone makes me feel like a peeping tom. Is that like geek foreplay for you and Abigail?" Aghast at what she'd just said and the image it flashed, she slaps her hand over her mouth. "Never mind, none of my business."

Marshall ignores her. "That's as far as I can go. I don't have the tools here." He reassembles the phone, gets his badge and gun and starts to leave.

"Where are you going?" she whispers. "What about the chain of custody? If we're going to use that as evidence. . . ."

"It won't be out of my sight," He says quietly his hand on the door knob. "I may not be back this afternoon." He catches her eye and cocks an eyebrow. "Try not to incite a riot."

She stares back, making sure he knows what he's doing. Their careers, maybe even their lives, depend on it. "Okay."

Mary tries to work on her reports and witness requests but the Caldwell conundrum takes all her brain cells. She puts her elbows on her desk, pushing her hair out of her face with both hands. _How in the hell are they going to get this douche? Getting his phone is a start, but how do we nail him with the goods?_

Her desk phone rings.

"This is Mary." Marshall? Mary's brow furrows. Marshall never calls her desk. Has her cell phone been hacked?

"Meet me at the Halfway House."

There are a number of halfway houses in Albuquerque for addicts and former prisoners. Looking around she whispers, "You mean the bar?"

"Yes," he hisses. "Get over here now."

"Okay, okay, I'm on my way." Before she hangs up she hears "Sugarbear?" She gives the handset a curious look, then grabs what she needs and rushes out to the elevator.

Mary spots Marshall's SUV in the parking lot and jogs into the bar. It's still early afternoon and the place is practically empty. He's standing at the bar in jeans and a windbreaker. "Where's the fire Chief?" She smirks at her lame play on words. Marshall doesn't. "What did you tell Abigail?"

"Abigail?"

"I heard her, _Sugarbear_ you _,_ before you hung up. What does she think you're doing? Does she know you're with me?"

"I went home to change. Abigail's on administrative leave. She knows this is work." Marshall frowns, annoyed. The bartender approaches and they order.

Mary's eyebrow rises. "And she believed you? Even after accusing you of being a cheat and a criminal?"

"Of course she did. She knows me." Marshall eyes cloud and his expression sours. "At least I thought she did."

"Whatever you say." Mary rolls her eyes. She wouldn't trust someone who had betrayed her.

"This is serious Mary. Caldwell wasn't only after you." Marshall takes the bottles from the bartender, pays and points to a table. They sit and even before he opens his beer he confides. "I found more than photos on his phone. Deleted texts to a burner with copies of Border Patrol staffing schedules. Now why would he even have that information?"

Mary shrugs. "We have access to all that stuff. Better question is who did he send it to?"

Marshall takes a sip. "Easy, the Boss. If deliveries were scheduled when the Border Patrol had fewer agents it would be easier for the trucks to slip through."

Mary nods. "Yup, but how do we prove it?" She puts her elbows on the table looking off to the side, thinking. "So that's why every time I passed his desk the screen changed or he pretended to be playing that Candy Crap game."

"I never saw him do that." Marshall glares at her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I figured he was doing it to annoy me. Can't you track everything he does on his office computers?"

Marshall rubs his chin. "Theoretically, yes."

"God Marshall if a nerd like you can't figure it out what hope is there for the rest of us?" She takes a another drink. "So what else did you find?"

"He had photos of Michael and Lucas."

Mary's head jerks up. "Were there any of Davey?"

"Curiously no. If Davey and Michael were friends I would expect photos of the two of them."

Mary shakes her head then swallows. Her blonde hair ripples enchanting him. "I don't think Davey knows him that well. They met at Gamblers Anonymous. Davey told me he was trying to do a good deed, and I believe him. Mikey wasn't his type."

What was Marshall thinking? She knew that faraway look. He wasn't putting all their eggs in the Blackberry. What's his plan?

Marshall wasn't thinking, he was reacting - to Mary. Her breasts were peeking over the edge of her tank top. Mary kicks him under the table. "Wake up Doof, uh Marshall. Can you audit his computer? See what he's been doing?"

"Yes, but it has to go through channels. Might take a few days. His phone is with the cyber forensics guys at the regional office."

"Do you know who has it? How do you know it's still there?" Mary's ever the cynic.

"It's with someone," he says slowly "I know and trust. Besides, he owes me."

Mary lowers her shoulders, relieved by Marshall's assurance. "What did you do? Out origami him?"

"Ha ha. Wouldn't you like to know? What I want to know is how long Mr. Candy Crap has been running this side business. He was issued that phone before coming to this office. There are suspicious files on there that pre-date his assignment to Albuquerque."

Mary runs her fingers through her hair. "God Marshall. What a fucked up can of worms."

"Yes, I think we're going to need help on this. Did you know the Director has given Lucas Provisional Marshal status?"

Mary's face scrunches. "What the hell is that?"

Marshall surveys the room, his eyes mere slits. "According to the directive I received, he can be brought into any case in any marshal office, even ours."

Mary's eyes open wide. "Are you saying we can tell him about this? Why would they give him free rein in every office?"

"I don't know. There's something else going on. But yes we could tell him and we might as well. He may know more than we do. For all we know his law practice is a cover."

Mary sighs and shakes her head. "I knew he was too good to be true."

"What do you mean? He's one of the good guys." Marshall may not like seeing Lucas with Mary and Norah, but he doesn't question the man's character.

She shakes her head again, disgusted. "I was beginning to think he was interested in me and Bug. I knew he wouldn't quit that job; he loves what he does."

"Mare." Marshall reaches across the table and takes her hand. "He told me **you** were the reason he came to Albuquerque. Running into Michael was an accident. He came to see if you two have a future." He watches her carefully. "You're together now, right?"

Mary squints and frowns. She doesn't know how to answer that question. "Are you trying to ask if we had sex?"'

Marshall leans back, uncomfortable. "I know he stayed at least one night at your house." She raises a brow. "He answered your phone." Marshall drops his head chagrined. "He reamed me out for wanting to wake you."

Mary looks confused. "He never said anything to me."

"I told him he didn't need to." Marshall's eyes focus on her over his beer. "So, did you?"

"Did we what, have sex?" Mary smirks at the way the tips of Marshall's ears are turning pink. When they were partners she shared highlights of her sexploits just to see that. She found it endearing. She still does. Mary finger combs her hair distractedly. "No."

"No? Or just not yet?" Marshall pushes.

They're not partners anymore and this time Mary doesn't feel like sharing. "Don't you know I never fuck men I actually like?" Mary deflects. "We're still getting to know one another. He's already passed the Norah test."

"Yes, he has," Marshall agrees dispiritedly.

"What are you going to tell your fiancée about this secret meeting at" she waves her hand at the trashy bar and whispers her husky voice making him shiver, "our cozy love nest?"

"I told you, Abigail knows it's work." He drops his gaze. "Besides, she isn't my fiancée anymore."

Mary sits back, taking a moment to digest this news. Then she leans and stretches a hand out to his. "I'm sorry Marshall. Until this week you two seemed to be the perfect match." She points her bottle toward his hand. "I noticed you weren't wearing her ring."

Marshall's too despondent to be distracted by her attempt at humor. "Yours is the only engagement ring I ever wore." He sighs. "I should have known it wouldn't work."

The next sound he hears is Mary's chair scraping as she gets up and goes to the bar. She comes back with two shots. "Here ya go, Ringo. Down the hatch."

Marshall picks up the shot, salutes her and they both down the whiskey. Mary coughs, clearing her throat. "You didn't have to dump her just because she arrested me."

"I didn't," he mumbles. "How could we be engaged? She believed I would break the law, that I was a criminal, a miscreant, a malefactor!" He takes a long swig and thumps the table with the bottle. "How could she? Who did she think I was?"

Mary leans back assessing him. "Who did you think she was?"

Marshall sighs. "That's the question I've been asking myself. I thought for once what I saw was what I got – a bright, enthusiastic woman in law enforcement who understood me, understood the job, who loved me, trivia, hobbies and all. She said she wanted to start a family. She was ready to settle down – with me. You know how long I've wanted that?"

"As long as I've known you." Mary admits.

"Why won't you let me see Norah?"

Mary blinks, not anticipating this sudden turn in their conversation. She focuses on peeling the label off her bottle. "You and Abigail were busy with your plans and your friends and your dinner parties. When would you have time?"

"Dammit Mare. I would have made time. I asked and asked and you always had some excuse. We offered to babysit for god sake!" He lowers his voice. "Although given Norah's reaction to Abigail at the park it's a good thing we never did."

"I couldn't invite you to my house without Abigail now could I? She'd already thought we were fuckmuppets. I didn't need to fan that flame! Truth is, I didn't want her there. I don't need to hear her snarky comments about my parenting or me."

"I never heard Abigail criticize you." Marshall wonders what he had missed.

"You think I don't know what she meant at Antiquities when she said 'fancy meeting you here?" She flat out told me I didn't belong there. I should be eating at cheap burger dives. That's all I deserve."

When they'd run into Mary on a date Marshall had been so pissed and jealous that he hadn't paid attention to Abigail or the way she addressed Mary. Or had he felt Mary deserved it for slighting them?

"But you two seemed to get along. You talked to her. You never make polite conversation."

Mary rolls her eyes and gives him her oh-really look. "Pretending I'm a pleasant person is exhausting, but for your sake, I tried."

"But Caldwell saw you and Abigail argue. Abigail's chief said that Caldwell chose Abigail because he had seen you two arguing." Marshall shook his head and muttered, "How did he manage to see that and miss the fact that Abigail and I are engaged?" Pinning her with his gaze he asked, "What did you two argue about?"

Mary turns her head, pretending to check on the bar's patrons. "Uh, it was nothing."

"C'mon Mare it had to be something." Marshall's remembering the rough and tumble catfight between Mary and Officer Roxanne Lewis. Mary didn't know he had saved that video clip and watched it dozens of times. "Did it happen in the parking structure? Caldwell could have overheard you. Sound really carries in there."

Mary refuses to meet his gaze, but he can tell he's right. "It was nothing. Really."

"Look, I'm trying to understand why my fiancée - who was ready to marry me a few weeks ago - could throw me under the bus. Why would Caldwell pick her? Help me out here. Please?"

It was the please that weakened her resolve. Running her hand over the back of her neck she finally met his eyes. "It was the day Abigail made you lunch. You were shoveling antacids like M&Ms all afternoon." Marshall grimaces remembering.

"Ronnie had just started a new job and I needed to make sure he wasn't pissing everyone off on his first day. I'm at my van, opening the door when I hear, _'_ _Mary. Mary. Wait up.'_ "

 _Uh hi Detective. I'm late for an appointment._

I hoped she'd take the hint but she grabbed my arm. That pissed me off, but I didn't deck her. I should have because then she started in on me. _'_ _Why does everything has to be on your time table? I'm busy too but I make time for friends.'_

 _'_ _See, that's how we're different. I don't have any friends.'_ I tried to shake her off, but instead she grabbed both arms. I gave up and turned to face her.

 _'_ _What about Marshall, and me?'_ She had the nerve to ask. ' _We're your friends.'_

So, I told her the truth. ' _Let's get this straight detective,_ _ **Marshall and I**_ _were friends. That did not make 'us' friends,'_ Then I did the air quotes thing for emphasis. In case she was still unclear on the concept I reminded her that it was her doing. ' _Thanks to you we are no longer friends. So_ _stop inviting me to your soirees. Even if we were friends, I don't do soirees!'_

Then she got closer. You know how I hate that. ' _What do you mean you're not friends? He can have a fiancée and friends. I have Marshall and I have friends.'_

It was painful but I held my temper and explained _. 'You have no idea what our partnership was like. We fit together like two puzzle pieces. Thanks to you that puzzle is just pieces. You and Marshall are building a new puzzle, fitting your pieces to create a life together. I'm not part of that. Understand?'_

She didn't hear a word I said. Instead she simpered, _'_ _Ever since our picnic he's been moody and moping. And it wasn't because of the quiche.'_

I must admit I smirked over her failed French pie. Then out of the blue she says, ' _Everyone knows you and Marshall were fuckbuddies. That's why he's being blackmailed.'_

Now that was really dumb. ' _Really Detective? Is that the best you got? If 'everyone knows' then how could he be blackmailed? Doesn't blackmail involve – oh I don't know –_ _ **secrets**_ _?'_

Then she pulls out her evidence, the defining point. NOT. _'_ _The Regional Director doesn't know.'_

That made me laugh. ' _The Regional Director ran her own investigation when she took office. You know what she found? Nada, zip, nothing. Do all LEO's fuck their best friends?'_

Finally I had enough. I shook her off and got in her face and let her have it. ' _How could anyone blackmail Marshall? He's by the book all the way all the time. Did you sucker him into something shady?'_ Honestly did she ever meet you?

Once again Miss Snippy didn't even stop to think about what I said. ' _The Boss is squeezing him for information about my investigation._ _Isn't that right?'_

I couldn't believe she could be so dense, so stupid. I hate to say this about another woman but the only excuse for her yammering inanities was that she was on the rag. ' _What have you been smoking? Marshall works for the U.S. Marshal Service period. That's it. Get your facts straight Detective. No one is blackmailing him.'_

I got in the van and slammed the door. And then she said good bye."

"She did?" Marshall asked.

"Yeah, she yelled, ' _Stay the fuck away from us. You're no friend.'_

So I said, ' _Glad you finally figured that out Detective,'_ and drove off."

"You fought about **me**? She thinks you and I were . . . ." He can't even say it. Marshall had hoped the two most important women in his life (three if he counted his mom) would get along. He never expected them to be friends, but this was nuts.

Mary leans her head back, eyes lids heavy. "Sure, if that's what floats your boat."

"And she thought I was being blackmailed because I was having sex with you? Crazy huh?"

Marshall closed his eyes and dropped his head down, inhaling deeply and slowly. "Yeah. Really crazy."

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A/N: Once again my heartfelt thanks to Meg for her kind reviews.


	16. Rat's Trap

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

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Provoked Too – Chapter 16 – Rat's Trap

After the shootouts, accusations and commendations Mary welcomed being home with Bug. At work she even relished the routine witness reports, annoying phone calls and job searches for one of her witnesses. At the end of a productive and quiet day she's locking her desk when her phone pings with a text from an unknown number. ' _Meet_ _me halfway_ ,' followed by ' _7 is your lucky number_.' Knowing Lucas has a burner, Mary calls Joanna and arranges for her and Mark to keep Norah overnight. Mary feels a twinge of remorse for sticking them with a teething baby. She's had weeks of those nights. It's Mark's turn.

Arriving at the Halfway Bar Mary spots Lucas' Land Rover and heads for the entrance. Before she can reach it a raspy voice from the shadows says "Pssst. Wanna buy some used origami?" She peers around the corner of the building to see Marshall and Lucas.

Hands on hips she stares at Marshall who pulls her into the alley. Lucas is right behind him. "We need to meet somewhere else. I just talked to Michael. He thinks someone has this place staked out."

Mary surveys the small dirty parking lot. "What is this Spy vs Spry?" Not that Mary wants to spend another minute in that tacky bar with the piss poor beer.

"I've got a new place," Marshall offers.

Mary gives him a quizzical look. "Yeah, you live at the Prairie Complex." That's not new.

Marshall looks pained. "I moved to the apartment complex with the inadequate closets." He knew she'd remember the mobster's daughter who saw her mother shot to death. After entering WitSec her main concern was the size of the closet at her Albuquerque apartment. That didn't bother Mary. She knows people grieve differently. Anger is her go to emotion.

After studying him, she gets it. "Okay."

"Let's get out of here before our cars get stripped," Marshall warns. Driving the Probe Mary never thought twice about leaving it in the unlit parking lot of a crappy bar in a dangerous neighborhood. Nobody would steal that pile of junk – assuming they could get it running. "Let's rendezvous at the Sunshine Building."

"Don't say rendezvous," Mary grouses. She gets in her minivan without a backward glance leaving Lucas and Marshall to follow.

Marshall surveys the parking lot as he would for a witness transfer. "You really think this level of precaution is necessary?" He's not used being this careful for his own safety.

Lucas nods. "The Boss's customers are a vicious bunch and they are pissed about not getting their guns. They've offered a bounty for ATF agents and substantial rewards for information leading to the guns and who took them. They want revenge as much as they want their shipment."

Marshall nods, accepting Lucas' reasoning. He leans out the window of his truck, "Park on the rooftop. "She'll be there," Marshall assures him.

The trip to the Sunshine Building took longer than usual because they each took pains to be sure they weren't followed. Lucas and Marshall's cars are parked side by side when Mary pulls up. Lucas is leaning against his car but Marshall is nowhere to be seen. As she's getting out of the van the elevator disgorges the man himself laden with vests, helmets and assault rifles.

"Can't hurt to gear up. Especially since we're targets," Marshall grunts around his load.

Lucas opens the hatch on his car, gesturing for Marshall to drop his load there. "We'll take my car." Lucas suggests. "It doesn't scream lawman and it's easier to maneuver than the mom mobile." Mary calls shotgun and Marshall resigns himself to the back seat.

Lucas follows Marshall's directions to his new place. As curious as she is about his new living arrangements, Mary stays in the car finishing her good night call to Norah. Following Lucas she trudges up to the top floor. "Why did he get the penthouse if there's no elevator?

Marshall was waiting for her and he holds the door open. "Mi casa es su casa." The walls are bare. The furniture is bland. None of Marshall's collections are on display assuming he even has them. Mary pokes her nose into the bathroom and bedroom confirming that Marshall is sans roommate. Marshall's amused watching her check his place as they would a witness's. He's waiting for her to call 'clear.'

They settle around the kitchen table. Always the obliging host, Marshall gets beers and a bag of tortilla chips.

"What? No guac?" Mary complains. Her mouth is full but Marshall can translate. He puts a bowl of guacamole on the table.

"Your wish is my command." He eyes the blonde stuffing chip after chip into her mouth. "Have you never had tortilla chips? You know can buy them at any grocery store."

"Nope, I'll eat them," she says scooping up some dip. "If I'm desperate there are teething biscuits. Those aren't bad if you gum them enough."

"Ew," Marshall curls his mouth in disgust and Lucas grimaces.

Mary gestures with a chip. "So what's the reason for the stealth and all the party toys? And where's Mikey? He should be here."

"Michael called. Caldwell is connected to a white supremacist group, the White Knights. This is the second botched delivery so it's ratcheted up the tension between what's left of the Boss' organization and his customers."

"Did the ATF ever figure out where did the real guns went?" Mary asked.

"Were there ever any real guns?" Lucas shrugs. "It's a long way from Argentina to Albuquerque. They could have been heisted anywhere along the way. The ATF found guns manufactured in Argentina connected to hate crimes in Texas, Arizona and Kansas."

"How did they know the guns came from Argentina? Were they able to trace the serial numbers?" Mary wants to know.

"Michael says the ATF has a new equipment for identifying weapons even without serial numbers."

Marshall's impressed. "I've read about that. Didn't know anyone was using it."

Lucas sets down his beer. "That's what Michael told me."

Mary stops chewing and looks at Marshall. "Did Abigail turn up any of this? She was investigating the Boss for months, right?"

Marshall shakes his head. "I dunno. If she did, she never told me. I should have realized something was off when she stopped mentioning her investigation. It was all she talked about for months. Chief Paradiso would know." Marshall grabs a chip. "He was quite forthcoming, even apologetic when I talked to him after your arrest." Marshall shoves the bowl of dip closer to Lucas and away from Mary. "Did Michael say anything else?"

"He's not certain who from the Boss' gang is still at large, but Caldwell knows Mary was at the warehouse. He seems to be connected to both the Boss and the White Knights. His people could be watching you two."

"People?" Mary says. "That scumbag has people? Are any witnesses in danger?"

Lucas looks to Marshall since he has no idea how WITSEC works. "Does Caldwell know which witnesses are Mary's?"

"He shouldn't. He only has access to the names and casefiles of his own witnesses. Stan set up the Phoenix Inspectors that way and I haven't changed it."

Mary's rooting in the bag of chips. "What did the scan of his work computer show?"

"Nothing yet. Homeland Security has some cracking tools I wish we had. It's slow going. I don't even know what's been authorized."

Lucas reaches for the dip. "ATF can set that up. Where is the computer?"

"On his desk, at the Sunshine Building. We didn't want to tip our hand so the scan is being done remotely."

Lucas takes out a burner and places a call. After explaining the problem the person on the other end needs some answers. "Is it on the DoJ network?" Marshall nods. "Yes." Lucas ends the call abruptly. "They can work with your system admin. We should have something soon."

"Must be nice to have all the answers at your fingertips," Marshall admits grudgingly.

Lucas shrugs. "Michael cleared me with his boss. I'm sure one day you'll have your own network of contacts."

Mary rolls her eyes and looks from one man to the other. "Really? You going to make this all about whose network is bigger?" She takes a sip of beer. "So that's his phone and computer. Any eyes on him?" Mary would love to see the jackass tailed. She's still embarrassed that she didn't spot Caldwell tailing her.

Lucas frowns. "I don't know. Michael doesn't tell me everything."

"So that's it? We just sit and wait?" Mary isn't the patient type.

Marshall isn't any happier about waiting. "What would you do Mare? Follow some skinhead to their hideout and the three of us take them down? It will take more than that to take down a militia with a stockpile of weapons. This is a multi-state, multi-agency operation." Lucas nods in confirmation.

"Then why doesn't one of those 'multi-agencies' tell us what's going on? What are they waiting for? They know who's involved. They know where. Why are we sitting here?" Her eyes narrow and she stares at Lucas, figuring he's not telling all he knows. "Is there someone they need to spring before they can take them down?"

"I dunno. Michael told me DoJ is working with that new snitch from the Boss's gang."

"But what does that have to do with Caldwell?" Marshall's concerned about his Inspectors. Had Caldwell breached WITSEC security? Are any other Inspectors in danger?

Lucas puts down his beer. "I don't know. If the Boss was dealing with Caldwell, the new snitch, uh witness, might know something."

Mary's tired of talking and walks to the front window, scanning the parking lot. "Where's Mikey? We need to know what he knows."

As if an answer to Mary's demand, Lucas' phone rings. "It's Michael. I'll put in on speaker."

Before they can ask him any questions, Michael shouts, "Caldwell's down. Repeat. Caldwell's down. I'm going in."

"Where is he?" Mary asks. Marshall is busy punching buttons on his phone.

"I've got the GPS on Caldwell's phone. He's at the warehouse."

Mary yells, "Let's roll. If Caldwell's involved it's a trap."

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A/N: This story is mostly written so chapters will be posted on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Enjoy!


	17. They All Fall Down

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

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Provoked Too – Chapter 17 – They All Fall Down

Despite Mary's impulse to rush into the fray, Lucas insisted on calling for backup as they hustle down the stairs. "Michael isn't your witness, Mary. He's armed, he's trained and battle tested. The ATF and the FBI need to know what's going on. They may not even know he's there." They reach the ground and he looks her in the eye. "Just think for a minute."

"He's right Mare." Marshall joins them at the bottom of the stairs, phone to his ear. "I've called the marshals and I'm on with the PD now."

Mary twists her lips, disgusted. "Ganging up on me? Et tu Marshall?"

"Fraid so." Marshall tips his head and starts talking to the PD as they walk. Backup taken care of, they gear up at the back of Lucas' Rover, Marshall giving directions to the police. Mary fidgets with her vest and checks theirs. She usually goes over the plan while she waits, making sure she knows her part, anticipating what might happen and rehearsing what she needs to do. Tonight there is no plan.

Her first concern is always her witness but her partner's safety is a close second. This time she thinks of Norah. She has to get through this in one piece for her baby. For the first time adrenaline isn't driving her. It's fear. She doesn't like it and tries to stuff it down by filling vest pockets with extra ammo checking and rechecking weapons. Still talking to the PD, Marshall grunts when she shoves extra clips into his front pants pockets. He quickly hangs up, pulling up his pants. "Mare! What the hell?"

"Wouldn't want you to run out of bullets. Here," she hands him a helmet. "For god sakes wear this. If you got hit in the head we'd drown in all the trivia that fell out."

Lucas parks a block away from Caldwell's location. It's dark and eerily quiet. The stark security lights focus on the entrances to several warehouses leaving the areas in between dark. As they head for the warehouse with an open loading door they see several SUVs parked nearby. They crouch behind k-rails and loading docks flattening themselves against the corrugated exterior. The light above the open loading door lights the dock, but not the interior. They hear sounds coming from the gaping black hole. "He's got to be in there." Mary whispers harshly then points her gun at something on the concrete.

Marshall squats, gets out a tiny flashlight and touches his finger to the dark spot. Mary and Lucas keep watch. He sniffs and licks. "Blood. Someone got hit. It's fresh."

There's no sign of Michael or Caldwell. They fall back to the darkness between buildings. "It's suicide to try a frontal assault." Lucas points out. "There's a door there." His gun points to a slightly darker rectangle at the side of the warehouse. "There's a fire escape on the other side of the building." Marshall squints questioning how he knows. "What?" Lucas shrugs nonchalantly. "It shows up on street view. You two take the fire escape, I'll take the side door."

Lucas waits while Mary looks to Marshall. "You got a better plan?" Marshall had pulled them out of many a bind by studying the area and planning. But this time he's just along for the ride. Marshall tilts his head and considers. It's weird to be following Lucas. It's not like following Mary on nothing but her instincts. "Nyah. Not really. What else do you know?"

"After the firefight when we got Davey Michael showed me blueprints for all Propack's warehouses. It's standard warehouse construction circa 1970. No heat or a/c. Water pipes and sewage lines and electrical come in the back. There's a room, probably an office with a bathroom next to it. Corrugated walls, high side windows, three skylights on top and stairs from the roof. You'll be exposed on the fire escape but the stairwell will provide cover."

"You got your climbing shoes?" Marshall asks checking on Mary. The metal fire escape is on the other side of the open service door. They don't have time to circumnavigate the building. So all they have to do is cross the black hole of the entrance without being seen. Easy peasy. Right?

Lucas is already trotting quietly down the building's side. Mary crouches preparing to run. "Wait." Marshall hisses. "We'll go together, make it in one transit. No sense giving them a second chance to hit us." Mary nods and tucks her blonde ponytail under her helmet. "On three." Marshall holds up one finger, two, then three. They dash across as quickly and quietly as they can. Marshall could have outrun her but he keeps his body between Mary and the opening.

The fire escape zigzags up the building starting above their heads. Mary holsters her gun and Marshall boosts her up. Once she's stable on the lowest platform she's reaching down to Marshall, when they hear clanking. They freeze hoping their dark gear performs as advertised. Marshall's head swivels slowly. Mary does the same. When it stays quiet, Marshall clambers up taking her hand although he's tall enough to make it without help. He follows her to the next landing, trying to ignore the temptation of her toned posterior.

Despite the occasional creak from the fire escape, they reach the roof without being shot at. Mary is ready to pop her head over the edge. "Okay Doofus. What's the best way in?"

He's a step below her, ready to catch her if she slips. "Quietly?"

If they were on solid ground she'd punch him. Instead she places one booted foot on the top step and throws a leg over the parapet rolling herself onto the roof. Lying on her back she raises up on her elbows, gun drawn, covering Marshall. Once he's beside her she sits and gestures to the skylights.

Marshall looks at the glazed double pitch skylights. "Stay down." He thinks cameras on the roof would be out of place in a building this old, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. "We need to slither over there," he cautions knowing her propensity for charging in, relying on surprise.

As much as she hates crawling it does make them smaller targets. Mary scoots over to the first skylight. Marshall pulls himself next to her as she scans the area. There's a rooftop door thirty feet away.

Mary tries to slow her breathing while Marshall peers into the dark interior. When shots ring out they jerk and Mary grabs Marshall's collar pulling him back. "Lucas?" Mary asks. Marshall shrugs. When quiet returns, Mary has just reached the next skylight when light pours out ruining her night vision. She blinks and kneels beyond the edge of the skylight looking down into the building. Marshall points to Lucas crouched between rows of crates. They see four shooters, two in front of him and two behind.

Mary points at the rear two then herself. Marshall silently aims at the remaining two. They fire together making glass shards shower the shooters, and Lucas. Their cover blown they run to the door and clatter down the stairs. Lucas is pinned down by the remaining gunmen.

One gunman is directly under a crate suspended by ropes. Mary aims at the rope and just as she pulls the trigger a bullet whines past her ear. The rope splits and the crate misses the gunman but spews parts and packing blocking the aisle. Lucas, now on top of the crates gives them a thumbs up.

The shooters have regrouped and a bullet whizzes past as she jumps the last few steps. When Marshall isn't behind her she knows something's not right. "Get down here Doofus," She hisses. Eyes forward she feels his touch on her shoulder. Like her he's scanning for threats. She examines his face quickly, eyebrow raised asking if he's okay. He nods and stands shoulder to shoulder with her, their backs against the wall of crates.

Mary jerks her head to the right, crouches down and heads for where they last saw Lucas. She stops and listens then checks behind her. Something is dripping from Marshall's left hand. She crabs her way to him, grabs his wrist and wrenches it up. Marshall winces, but doesn't make a sound. "What's this?" She hisses.

"A graze. I'll be fine." Marshall keeps watch while she examines his arm. He spots someone crawling on the crates. "Mare, we've got company." Mary ducks as he shoots. She yanks a cloth out of her back pocket and tightens it around his arm. They hear a thud and a grunt. Marshall looks at the cloth. "Thought you didn't carry a handkerchief."

"I don't. That's a burp rag." Then louder "Lucas? That better not be you," she shouts, then shoots a gunman behind Marshall.

"Thanks doll. Just what they needed to pinpoint me," Lucas retorts. Mary hears him scrambling over crates.

She peers up into Marshall's face, checking his pupils. "Marshall?"

He turns aside. "Let's move Sunshine. I don't like being a sitting duck."

"So the target on your back isn't a fashion statement?" Mary hisses then glues herself to his injured side her back against the crates as they crab walk down the aisle. "Where's Lucas?"

"Where's Mikey?" Marshall asks. The whole point of this exercise is to rescue the ATF agent.

"He's got to be there." Mary points to a door at the end of the aisle. "Looks like the office with two goons guarding it. Why aren't they shooting at us?"

"Just because they haven't doesn't mean they won't." Marshall grunted teeth clenched. "Lucas is heading this way. Shall we join him?"

"Oh yeah. Join away."

Any doubt about Michael's location is quickly erased by a bellow easily heard through the open office door. "Lucas you son of a bitch! What in the hell is taking you so long. Get your ass in here and cut me loose. You better have Maggie."

Marshall asks, "Maggie?"

"Mikey's M-15," Mary supplies. She noticed Lucas toting an extra rifle but thought he was just being prepared.

They inch their way around the crates and each take down a guard. Lucas covers them while Marshall enters ready to take out Mikey's captors.

After checking the small office he's sure Michael is alone, tied to a wooden chair in front of a big carved wooden desk. Mary is at the door. "Where's Lucas?"

"Right here," he responds pushing Mary out of the doorway. "All we have to do is stay alive till backup arrives." Mary's cutting Michael's ropes when Lucas blows past her. Free of the ropes, Michael rubs his wrists and reaches for the M-15 Lucas is carrying.

"How many are still out there?" Marshall asks Lucas.

"Four. I heard them say more are coming."

"Let's hope ours get here first," Marshall grunts as he and Lucas grab the huge old wooden desk. Michael gives them a hand and it lands with a loud whump and clouds of dust. Marshall coughs. "They must use your housekeeper, Mare." She glares as they crowd behind it.

Shots are fired, but not near them. They all breath a sigh of relief when they hear sirens and bullhorns announcing that their backup has arrived. Bright lights shine in the high side windows. They crouch and wait for the all clear.

"Marshall Mann! ABQPD," someone shouts. Marshall crouches and sidles along the wall to the doorway. There's a cop in a blue uniform walking toward them. Behind him men in dark blue jackets are scurrying up and down the aisles, guns drawn. Marshall steps out of the office, there's a pop, then he falls. The uniform runs past the door.

"Officer down, officer down," Mary wails as she runs to Marshall. Lucas and Michael follow the police officer. The three of them corner the shooter. As much as she'd like to shoot the bastard herself, Mary can't leave Marshall. "You're wearing a vest Doofus. Where are you hit?" He's lying face up so she checks for a pulse, and sobs when she finds it. She loosens his helmet then runs her hands down his arms and legs. The shot came from his left side. She loosens his vest.

"Where the hell are the EMT's," she bellows. "Officer down over here." She's loud enough to wake the dead, but Marshall doesn't respond. She looks down the aisle and sees the paramedics running with full bags. She stands and lets them tend to Marshall.

"He was shot, left side. He's wearing a vest. He's going to be okay? Right?"

"No lead poisoning. Did he hit his head?" the paramedic asks, positioning the stethoscope on Marshall's chest. They check his eyes.

The shooter is cornered. Lucas and Mikey aim their rifles at him, while the uniform moves in and cuffs him. Lucas comes back to check on Mary and watch the paramedics work on Marshall.

"Shooter's in custody," he informs her.

"Where is he? I want to see that son of a bitch. Keep an eye on him," she gestures to Marshall. Mary catches up to the cops holding the shooter. "Caldwell, you son of a bitch." Before the cops can stop her Mary decks the cuffed man. "If Marshall is injured the next time I'll slug you so hard you'll land on another planet."

Adrenaline spent, Mary's still worried but calmer as she and Lucas watch the paramedics work on Marshall. "Where's Mikey?"

"He's talking to his ATF buddies. They and PD have to figure jurisdiction and call the AUSA to see how he wants to handle this."

Shouts of ATF, FBI echo through room. Mary shouts back, "US Marshals" and holds out her badge. Mary's heart starts beating when she sees Marshall's long arm rise from the floor holding his badge. Everyone is holding a badge except Lucas. He just smiles when an officer approaches and points to Mary. "I'm with her."

The officers move on, clearing the warehouse. Mary is itching to touch Marshall but knows it's best to let the paramedics work. "He's wearing a vest. How bad can it be?"

"He was shot at close range," Lucas reminds her. "There's going to be a bruise at least. And then there's that bullet hole in his arm. I didn't see it until now. He's a brave man."

"He has to be, partnered with me all these years." Lucas nods and watches Mary smile as Marshall sits up. She bends to his side helping him stand up. Marshall groans, then collapses. The paramedics walking behind catch him and call for a gurney.

"What's wrong?" Mary shouts. "He was fine. You checked him. He was fine."

"Mary," Lucas takes her arm stopping her in midstride. "Let them get him to the hospital where he can be checked out. Okay? We'll be right behind them."

Distraught, Mary turns to Lucas. "There was no blood. What's wrong with him?" She shudders and sobs.

"C'mon. Let's find our ride."


	18. Down and Out

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

* * *

Provoked Too – Chapter 18 – Down and Out

Pulling into the emergency entrance of the hospital, Mary sees Marshall being unloaded from the ambulance and bails before Lucas can stop the car. She plows through the doors keeping an eye on Marshall's gurney and only stops when she hits the doors marked NO ADMITTANCE flanked by two hefty orderlies. She changes course striding over to the desk, badge in hand. "I'm the partner of the United States Marshal who just went through those doors. Where are they taking him?"

The nurse gives her a frank gaze. "They're taking him to be assessed. Please give us a few minutes, and I'll let you know. You said he's a marshal?"

"Yes."

"I assume you want a private waiting room?" When Mary nods, she signals another nurse to mind the desk. "Please follow me."

Despite the noisy ER Mary hears hurried footsteps closing in on her. "Lucas?" she asks without turning around. He stops behind her huffing from running from the parking lot. "Yeah, I'm here."

She points her thumb behind her. "He's coming with." The nurse leads them down a narrow corridor to a broom closet of a room with tacky vinyl benches and plastic chairs.

Before she leaves the nurse asks, "What's the patient's name?"

"Marshall Mann."

The nurse is puzzled. Mary sighs and rolls her eyes. Did his mother even think about the confusion his name would cause? "Yes, he's a marshal and yes, his first name is Marshall, last name M-A-N-N." Seeing the concern on Lucas' face, Mary reconsiders. Marshall needs to be protected at all costs. Caldwell and his cronies would know not only his real name but his cover name.

"This man is a US Marshal with enemies who won't hesitate to turn your hospital into a killing zone just to get to him. It's vital that his real name not be disclosed on any hospital records. Use Marshall Doofus spelled D-I-E-U-F-U-S for his records. Got it?"

The nurses' eyes open wide. She's dealt with law enforcement before but never one this fierce. She looks to Lucas, whose thin lips grimly confirm that the distraught woman is deadly serious.

"I'll make sure that happens. The name of this patient is Marshall Dieufus?"

"That's correct," Despite the gravity of their conversation, Lucas can't suppress a smirk. "I'm his medical proxy." She hopes she's his medical proxy. He hadn't mentioned changing it to Abigail.

Lucas takes her by the elbow. "Sit down Mary. You're starting to shake."

The nurse looks at the disheveled woman, puts a hand on her forehead and takes her wrist. "Are you injured?"

"No, no," Mary insists. "Not me, it's Marshall." Having done her duty by her former partner, Mary closes her eyes. Her head lolls as her knees buckle. Lucas grabs her around the waist. "What's wrong with me?" she whines.

The nurse gets in her face. "You're going into shock. You need to get your feet up. I'll bring you a warm blanket." Mary sits and Lucas put his jacket around her.

 _What in the hell is going on? I should have gone with him. Why did I think it was safe?_ _Why is everything blurry? Marshall, Marshall! There was no blood. No blood!_

Lucas lets her be until the nurse returns with a blanket. When he starts tucking it in, she rouses. "Stop fussing. I'm fine, I don't need a damn blanket."

Lucas takes her hands. "Then why are your hands cold? Why are you shivering? Your body is telling you something. You need to pay attention." He pulls his jacket up higher on her shoulders and puts his arm around her. "Just rest. Just for a minute." She put her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes. The two person vinyl seat allows him to sit close. When she doesn't protest, he pats his chest and pulls her head down.

"Ack!" she rears back. "That's no pillow! You're still wearing a vest."

"Picky, picky, picky." Lucas had forgotten. It seems like hours since the shootout at the warehouse. He stands and divests himself of the hard tactical gear. "The nurse said to put your feet up." He takes her feet and places them on a chair. "Now rest." He pats his chest again. "C'mon, there's no hard vest, just hard muscle." He uses his embrace to draw her close. She tries to keep some distance between them, to stay upright, but her eyes close and her body sags without permission. Surrounded by the warm blanket and Lucas her breathing evens out. Lucas ignores his own fatigue and holds her gently staying alert, keeping watch.

She's asleep when the nurse returns. Lucas puts his fingers to his lips silently asking her to let the exhausted woman rest. The nurse whispers, "He's in a room. You can come in and stay till they take him to imaging."

"Is he awake?"

"No."

"Then we'll stay here. Thank you." He's relieved when Mary doesn't stir.

A little while later Mary wakes up, grumbling and berating herself for resting while her partner lies injured. Lucas has his head back, eyes closed. As soon as she looks at him he opens one eye and gives her a warm smile. What is it about this man that allows her to relax enough to fall sleep? Or is she so exhausted that she would have slept anywhere? "Did I miss anything?"

"Nope, it's just us," he assures her, removing his arm. "Is there someone we should call? His boss? Family?"

Mary leans away from him, pawing her hair off her face, ignoring his questions. She shakes her head still caught up in her worries. "I don't understand. He shouldn't have collapsed. That's not Marshall."

Lucas hasn't seen this side of Mary. He's seen her soft and upbeat with her baby, but in her role as a marshal she's always been confident. Why is she questioning herself? Why did seeing Marshall fall hit her so hard? Is it because he's been her best friend for the last ten years? Lucas fears it's because she now sees Marshall as someone more than her partner or Chief. "You need to talk to someone about that. I'm right here. You know I won't judge you."

Mary glares at him out of the corner of her eyes. "Sure, hit me while I'm down why don't you? I don't need a damn shrink."

He gently takes her hand. "You know, I came to Albuquerque because I couldn't get you out of my mind. You are a fascinating woman Mary and I can see myself intrigued by you for 20, 30 even 40 years – if you didn't kill me in my sleep." That elicits a tiny upturn of her lips.

"The older we get, the more times we miss a date with death, the more we realize that our time will come. When we see a comrade fall, regardless of the injury, we are forced to face our own mortality. That's part of what's happening to you now. Then there's survivor's guilt. Why him? Why not me? It will take a while for you to work through it. But you will."

Mary, doubtful, looks into his eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because you are strong, resourceful and practical. You know you won't be any good to Marshall if you can't deal with this. And Norah needs you. You have to be there for her. Besides, it's who you are."

Mary slumps in her seat, eyes closed, and exhales. "You think you know me that well?"

"Not as well as I'd like, but I've seen others where you are. I've been where you are. I can help if you let me." She glares at him and he can almost hear her railing against his analysis. "We could be good together. Maybe even great. You, me, Norah. I'm ready to settle down and I'd love to settle down with you because life with you will never be boring."

Mary sobs, hiccups and laughs. "Are you proposing?"

"Well I'm proposing to propose. I don't think you're ready."

"Damn straight! We haven't even knocked boots." _Why is that?_ He is easy to be with. She always thought loving someone should be easy. She had hinted several times that she was open to some action between the sheets, but Lucas never took the hint even though she was sure he understood what she was offering.

"Give me a little credit. You are a desirable woman but I'm not some horny 16 year old. I can wait. I'm not looking for a one night stand." He looks away then focuses on her eyes. "You can have sex without being intimate." She gives him a WTF stare but remembers a few cowboys she used to blow off steam. "That's not what I want."

His eyes are still locked on hers. "You've shared a lot of your life story with me. I bet there are only a handful of people who know it, who know you. You told me even though I haven't told you much of mine." He looks away, troubled. "I don't want to burden you with my demons." He caresses her hands and turns back to her, his eyes soft.

"I'm not asking you to decide. It's too soon and I don't want to lose you." He smiles sadly. "But I can't lose what I never had. I know you need time and now's not the best time when you're worried about your partner. Please," he pleads. "Once things settle down, think about us. When Marshall recovers talk to him. All I'm asking is that you look at your reactions today and see what they tell you. Okay?"

She nods, and takes his jacket from her shoulders.

"Hang onto it. Your hands are still cold." He smiles wryly. Mary sniffs and takes the Kleenex he hands her. "Thanks."

"Is there someone you should call?"

She puts her feet on the floor and looks over her shoulder toward the door. "I don't want to call his parents until the docs tell us something."

"What about Stan?" He's doing his best to distract her. "You told me he was more than your former Chief. He's a friend, right? He'd want to know, and he'd understand that you don't have all the details."

Mary nods and sighs. She needs to do something. They've only been here a short time and already the waiting is unbearable. "Okay."

As she gets her phone out, Lucas asks, "You want coffee?"

"Yeah, sure," she responds distractedly.

He stands and pats her shoulder. "I'll be back soon. You going to be okay?"

"Yeah. Go." She gives him a watery smile, showing Lucas she'll be okay alone in the small waiting room.

 _You've got Stan. Mary? What's wrong?"_

Despite the circumstances, Mary is gratified Stan knows she wouldn't call at this hour if it wasn't serious. "It's Marshall," she bites back a sob. "He's been shot. He was wearing a vest!" she babbles. "He was fine after. Sat up, talked, everything." She stops, the lump in her throat is too big. "I was there. He was okay. We started walking to the ambulance and . . . . and he collapsed! There was no blood, Stan. No blood."

 _Is anyone there with you?_ He's only seen Mary lose it once, but she sounds close to unraveling now.

"Uh, Lucas. Lucas Provo. You remember him?"

 _The JAG lawyer? Why is he there?_ Stan knows if he can keep her talking she'll calm down.

Mary sighs, and leans back. "How much do you know about the shootout earlier this month?"

 _The one with PD, ATF and the gun smuggler's gang? I've read the reports. Lucas was with you that time, right?_

"Right. Tonight we were supposed to meet with Michael, the ATF agent. Lucas, Marshall and I were waiting for him when he called. He said Caldwell was down and he was going in. I knew it had to be a trap, Stan, but we were cut off before I could tell him," Mary exhales tremulously.

"We went to get him. And yes, Marshall called for backup. So did Lucas. But we couldn't wait. We had to get there before they killed him."

 _How is he, the agent?_

"All he got was a bloody nose. He was tied up in an office in the back of the warehouse. When I cut him loose he joined us then it became a shooting gallery. When the gunfire stopped, Marshall thought it was over, and walked out of the office into the warehouse and he got shot. He was wearing a vest and a helmet, Stan," she cries. "He's supposed to be okay."

 _Mary, listen to me._ Mary sniffs _. Marshall is tough. You know that. He pulled through last time and he will pull through this time. What happened next?_

"Right. Okay. The uh ATF agent and Lucas cornered Caldwell. That son of a bitch shot Marshall! The PD put him in bracelets. He damn well better be locked up."

Stan is silent for a minute. _I take it y_ _ou don't know who he's working with. That bastard put one over on the Marshal Service for years. His friends might try something. Let me check and call you back. Okay?_

"Okay." Her voice is small, tentative. She puts her hands in front of her face still clutching her phone as her body shudders.

"Mary?" She looks up to see Lucas, coffee in hand. She swipes at her tears. Lucas does her the courtesy of pretending he doesn't notice as he hands the coffee to her. "What did Stan have to say?"

She breathes out slowly and clears her throat. "He's going to make sure Caldwell's locked up."

Lucas settles in the chair next to her. "Good idea. He's got to have connections. Someone could try to spring him."

Mary growls grimly. "He better not get out. I'll hunt him down like the mangy douchebag he is. I'll put a hook down his throat and pull his balls out through his nose. I'll shoot him dead, so help me god."

Glad to see her fire return, Lucas adds, "And I'd be right there with you."

Mary cuts her eyes to him. "Why would you do that?"

"Someone has to have your back – for Norah, if not for you. Drink some of this swill while it's hot." She puts her hands around the paper cup and they sit waiting for the nurse, waiting for Stan's call, just waiting.

Lucas takes their empty cups to the trash. "Now come on." He pats his chest. Mary settles her head on his shoulder. His steady heart beat and warm embrace allow her to breathe, but she's determined to stay awake. She's still clutching her phone resting her hand on Lucas' chest. When it rings, she jerks awake clocking him on the chin.

She mouths a silent apology as she answers, "Stan?"

 _Yeah. He's in federal lockup. I talked to the jailer and arranged additional guards. The AUSA has to approve all visitors, even his lawyer and I know the guards personally. He's not getting out of there Mary. Just concern yourself with Marshall and keep me informed._

"Yeah, Stan. I will."

 _No word on Marshall?_

"Not yet."

 _Call me, Inspector_ , Stan commands and hangs up before she can answer.


	19. After Action

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

* * *

Provoked Too – Chapter 19 – After Action

What seems like hours later a doctor enters pulling down his surgical mask. "Family of Marshall Dieufus?"

"Partner," she corrects, standing and tossing the blanket aside. "How is he?"

"I'm Dr. Shawna," he says as he strips off his gloves. "Mr. Dieufus had a gunshot wound to the upper arm. It didn't go deep into the muscle but it required stitches."

"Is he awake? Can we see him?" After seeing him collapse she needs to see for herself. She needs to touch him.

"No, I'm sorry. He hasn't regained consciousness."

Mary doesn't allow the doctor to continue. "Why? Why isn't he awake? Why did he collapse?"

The doctor's experience with law enforcement partners is limited, but he knows the bond between squadron mates and wonders if a bond as deep can be forged outside a war zone. "He has a contusion on the occipital bone." Seeing Mary's blank stare he translates. "He has a bruise behind his ear that wasn't caused by a bullet exactly."

She narrows her eyes wishing Marshall was here. This time it's just her and the doctor, and Lucas. "What in the hell does that mean?" Lucas jumps in, wanting answers for Mary's sake.

The doctor quirks his lips, chagrined. "It means the bullet hit his helmet. It forced the helmet into the bones behind his ear causing blood vessels to rupture. The hemorrhage, the bleeding, put pressure on the brain that caused him to pass out."

"So, when he passed out the second time it was because blood had put pressure on his brain?" she asks.

"Exactly."

"When will he wake up?" Mary demands hands on hips.

The doctor doesn't have a definite time and hopes more details will appease the determined woman. "I installed a shunt, a drain, to relieve the pressure. It takes time for the blood to drain. And there could be other reasons he is unconscious so I've scheduled a CT and MRI to make sure we aren't missing something."

Mary exhales a sigh of relief, looking anywhere except at the bearer of ambiguous news. "But he'll be okay, right?" She turns and glares at him.

"We won't know that till we know the extent of the damage, after the scans," he clarified. "If the skull did its job and the only damage is from the intracranial hemorrhage, he should recover. But we won't know until we take a look."

"What's the worst case?" She doesn't want to know but Marshall would want to know. Hell Mr. Medical Trivia would know without having to ask.

The doctor grimaces. "It's impossible to know for sure until we see the location and extent of the damage. Trauma to that part of the head can result in aphasia," he pauses when she glares. "loss of speech, loss of hearing and even paralysis. While I don't see any indication of that in your marshal, it is possible.

"How long before you know?" She pleads with the doctor.

"Once we do the scans it will be an hour or two. If you want to leave, get something to eat, I'll have someone text you when he can have visitors."

Now that she knows why Marshall collapsed, she needs to deal with other issues. "He needs a private room and additional security. You need to limit the staff dealing with him and I'll need their names."

The doctor gives her a knowing look. "You think this was a deliberate attempt on his life?"

Mary nods jerkily and Lucas pipes up. "Yes. I'm sure you can appreciate the necessity for these precautions. Wouldn't want all your handiwork to go to waste."

"I'll make sure staff know. Do you have a list of names of those allowed to visit him?" Mary nods, already compiling it, feeling a twinge of glee at the thought of omitting Abigail. "I'll send a nurse out with our list and you can give her yours and your phone number."

"There's every reason to believe Mr. Dieufus," the doctor doesn't quite hide his smile, "will recover. Just be patient while we run some tests."

Once the doctor leaves Mary resigns herself to more waiting, more sitting. Lucas gets her to close her eyes, his arm her pillow. He's disappointed when she awakens too soon. "You've been through the wringer Mary. Go back to sleep." She shrugs out of his embrace, wipes the sleep from her eyes and stretches her arms above her head.

"You don't have to stay, you know." Having Lucas so close, being so comforting, feels weird.

"Is there something I can do?" He wants to be here for her, but if she needs space, he can do that.

Mary thinks for a minute and looks at him. "Check on Norah?"

"Sure. She's with Joanna, right?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure if she's at Mark's house or mine. Let me call her."

She gets out her phone but Lucas stays her hand. "I'll call her. Don't worry. Okay?"

"You've got her number?" Mary doesn't remember giving it to him, but she's not remembering much. Seeing Marshall fall plays on an endless loop in her brain.

"Yeah. I've got it. I'm sure Norah's okay, just missing her mama," he smiles sadly. Mary chokes back a sob at the thought of her daughter. "Anything else?"

"Check with Michael? I want to know what the hell happened. We don't have the whole story on this mess." She's so tired she can't even remember everything that happened.

Lucas bends down, grabs his flak jacket and kisses her cheek. "I'll call Michael right after I check on Norah. Call me if you need anything or if you hear anything. Okay?"

Mary ducks her head, hiding her worried expression. "Uh sure. Just let me know Bug's okay."

"I'll be back as soon as I can." Lucas decides she needs her baby, but he doesn't tell Mary that. As he walks toward the door he asks, "You going to call the office?"

"Ummm, yeah. Guess I'd better." She wonders what Delia knows. She considers calling Abigail, but since ABQPD was on site, someone will have told her. She doesn't want to talk to Abigail about anything, especially not Marshall.

"Hang in there Mary. He's going to be fine." Mary's calling the office as he walks out the door.

"Delia?"

 _Where are you?_

"At the hospital. They're still running tests on Marshall. I . . . . I haven't seen him yet."

 _What happened?_

Delia might as well hear it from her. At least Mary has the facts. "A bullet hit his helmet and drove it into his skull. The pressure made him black out. They're checking for brain damage."

 _Oh God, Mary. Is he going to be okay?_

"You know doctors. They never give you a straight answer. He's still unconscious." She sniffs holding back tears.

 _What can I do on this end?_

"Um, check my messages. See if there's anything urgent. Do the rest of the Inspectors know?"

 _Probably. There's been a lot of talk. Second firefight this month involving marshals. I think every law enforcement officer in Albuquerque has heard about it. I haven't heard many details though. What happened?_

Mary gives her the short version telling her that Caldwell shot Marshall and is in custody. "If you hear anything more call me." The official reports won't be done for days but Delia has her own sources at ABQPD and other agencies.

Alone at last she sees Marshall every time she closes her eyes. He's striding out of that office, vest secure, helmet on when he falls. In the cacophony of the take down she didn't hear the shot. It's as if the whole room was packed with cotton wool damping sound and blurring her vision.

She must have dozed off because she wakes up when her pocket buzzes. Mary checks her phone - Jinx. Sighing she decides to answer. "Hi Mom."

 _Where are you? I stopped by the house and no one was home. Where's Norah?_

Against her better judgement and usual practice Mary spills. "Norah is with Joanna. I'm at the hospital."

 _Sweetpea! Are you, are you hurt?_

"No Mom, it's Marshall."

 _Oh I'm so sorry dear. How is he_?

Mary hesitates. She fears the worst, but sticks to the facts. "They're running tests. He's" she inhales wetly, "he's unconscious."

 _Do you want me to come there?_

Mary coughs to cover her surprise. She's not used to her mother acting motherly. "Don't you have little twirlers to teach? Wouldn't want to disappoint your fans."

 _I could arrange something._

"No, no. That's okay."

There's a fuss at the door and Mary sees Lucas holding Norah. "I gotta go Ma. Norah's here." She leans forward to take her baby. "Hi Bug. Did you miss me?" Sitting, waiting, alternating between hunger, nausea and worry has her off kilter. Holding Norah, knowing her baby is okay makes her feel almost normal. Mary pockets her phone as Norah thrusts out of Lucas' arms. "Mama's got you. Yes I do."

Just as he hoped, Norah has gotten Mary out of her funk. He looks on fondly as Mary nuzzles and hugs her baby. Hearing footsteps, Mary perks up, but it's only Joanna with Norah's diaper bag, not the medical staff she hoped for. "Thanks for the emergency care, Joanna. Sorry to spring this on you."

"Don't be silly Mary. Where else would I be? She's been fine, eating okay. She hasn't napped much today so she fell asleep on the way over." Putting herself nose to nose with the baby, she coos softly, "Grandma and Norah had a good play time. Didn't we."

Lucas has brought more than Norah. He snickers when he hears Mary's stomach growl. He pulls a burrito out of his pocket and waves it under her nose. "Watch it buddy," she warns, her arms full of Norah. "You could lose a finger that way, but if there's coffee I might forgive you."

"You can thank Joanna. She knew what you'd like." Reaching behind him he retrieves a carry tray from Joanna's other hand.

Relieved of her cargo Joanna stretches. "Since you're here, I'm going to take a walk, maybe check out the gift shop. I've got my phone. Text me if there's any changes. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Mary's face is buried in Norah's jacket, but Joanna deciphers her mumbled response.

Lucas sets the burrito and coffee on the small table. "Let's trade. I'll take this beautiful lump and you eat." He gently lifts Norah into his arms. Mary watches as Norah briefly rouses, turns her head and settles. Lucas stays standing swaying gently.

Mary makes quick work of the food. After tossing the wrapper and empty cup she holds out her arms for Norah. Lucas sits next to her and sighs. "Look, I hate to do this but I've got to go. When I talked to Michael he asked me to come in. He needs my account of what went down. Your van's here. Joanna can take you and Norah home, when you're ready."

Mary turns to Lucas giving him a watery smile. "Sure, go. Are they going to want my report? I'll be doing one for the Marshal Service. Will that do?"

"I'm sure it will. I'll let them know." He leans down to hand Norah to her and manages to kiss her cheek.

Mary doesn't pull back. "Thanks."

Lucas squeezes her shoulder and whispers. "He'll be okay." Why does she feel relieved that there's no one here to witness his affectionate gesture? "You'll call? If you need anything, call. I shouldn't be gone long."

"Go. I'll be okay. Thanks for bringing Bug." Her smile barely curves her lips but her gratitude is sincere. She has a few minutes with Norah before the door opens and Joanna returns. She's not sure how much Lucas told Joanna. "Marshall's having scans done. He hit his head," she simplifies not wanting to freak Joanna out. She zips up her blue US Marshal jacket, hiding the bullet proof vest.

Joanna looks her over as she takes Lucas' seat. "How are you holding up?"

"Better now."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for the reviews Meg. It's nice to know someone is reading this!


	20. True Confessions

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

* * *

Provoked Too – Chapter 20 – True Confessions

The door opens and Mary stands her eyes devouring the approaching nurse. "Mary Shannon?"

"Yes"

"Mr. Dieufus is in his room." Mary ignores Joanna's look of surprise at the strange name.

"Is he awake?" Mary holds Norah close.

"No, but you can sit with him. Talk to him. He may respond to your voice."

Joanna stretches toward Norah. "Want me to take her?"

"No. I think he'd like to see her. Hand me the diaper bag." She's hoping Norah will let him know it's alright to wake up, that people who care are waiting for him. Walking down the hall to Marshall's room, she imagines him enveloped by a web of wires and tubes. He should be fine. There was no blood. As if that alone testifies to his health. She takes a minute to talk to his guards, threatening their manhood if they don't protect Marshall. They'll have to do.

She stops in the doorway relieved to see only one tube and one wire. Even she recognizes the finger tip device and nasal cannula. That's good. But then why isn't he waking up? She approaches the bed, studying his pale face his cheeks darkened by stubble. She doesn't know as much about medical equipment as her partner, but she knows enough to tell that his pulse is steady, his oxygen level is good and his last BP is normal.

"Hey partner," she calls softly standing next to his bed. "You should see your hair. Guess you have good excuse for a bad hair day." She sets Norah next to him so she can finger comb it off his face. She knows he hates having it in his eyes. "C'mon, don't you have a ton of hospital trivia you're just dying to share?" She grimaces. "My bad. Living to share?"

He looks like he's sleeping. No frowns, no wrinkles. Even the crow's feet around his eyes from squinting in the New Mexico sun have smoothed out. Norah leans toward him but Mary holds her back. She watches to see if he is faking. Nope. Shifting Norah to her hip she gives him a soft kiss on the cheek. "You promised Doofus. You can't leave. I never released from that."

Mary gets the giraffe from the diaper bag for Norah. She knows Norah shouldn't be crawling on Marshall when he can't defend himself. Gently swaying with her little girl she speaks softly. "When I saw you fall it made no sense. How could that be you lying on the ground? There was no blood. The hole in your arm had stopped leaking." She sniffs at the memory.

"I don't remember much after that. I kept on thinking you can't be hurt. When we got to the hospital and they took you away the nurse thought I was hurt. She said I was going into shock. I've been in gun fights before. I've seen you shot before. What's different this time? Why did it hurt so bad? Damn it Doofus I care about you!"

It's strange not to hear the constant stream of trivia, comments, sunny observations and smart ass barbs that normally pour from his mouth. "You've got to wake up Marshall." Norah tries to grab a fuzzy spot on the blanket and Mary sways away from the bed. "I'm sorry I didn't go out there with you. I should have. I'm supposed to have your back." He's not her partner anymore, but she still feels that she failed him.

"Since you asked me to release you I've tried to keep you out of the Shannon drama-o-rama. Now that you're Chief it wasn't hard to do. You and the defective detective were busy with wedding crap and you didn't have time for your old partner." She shakes her head. "You two exceeded the perkiness per square foot limit." She drops her head. "Well, you used to."

"You once told Stan that I don't let anything go. That's not true Doofus. I let you go." She looks at his still body, holding back tears. "I let you go to be happy. I thought she made you happy. I released you to be happy, dammit." Mary snorts. "She wanted to arrest you! How's that for true love? You sure can pick 'em partner."

Shifting Norah to her other hip Mary takes his hand, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. "I know you better than she ever will. You always do the right thing, by the book all the way. Except," she snickers, "we got creative with the book a few times." She presses her lips together because despite the pleasant memory, it feels wrong to smile. "You kept our witnesses in line with compassion. You showed them there was an upside to starting over. I just threatened them with the consequences."

Wrapping her arms around Norah she leans them both down checking his breathing, hoping for a change, for the flicker of an eyelid indicating he's still in there. "We make a great team. Made a great team. I miss you partner," she whispers. "When you asked me to release you, I was numb and I thought for once I could be a good friend, that I could do what you asked." She chokes back a sob, not wanting to upset Norah. "I can't, Marshall. It's just too damn hard. You left a huge emptiness in my life. Norah's the only reason I can . . . . and even she's not enough."

"Before Norah I don't think I'd know love if it bit me on the ass. Now I live in a world of fear and wonder. When I think of Norah I get this warm feeling right here." She puts her hand over her heart. "Is that love? Is that what it feels like? Because I feel the same way about you – except I'm not going to be wiping up after you."

Mary watches her baby blowing bubbles, but there's more on her mind. "You promised you'd stay alive." Setting Norah on the bed, she traces the sharp outline of his cheek her fingers teasing the sandpaper stubble. "You're important. You matter. That scares me. _"_ She takes Norah's hands to keep her from sticking her fingers up his nose. Her eyes fill with tears as she chokes out "I love you Marshall Mann."

Hearing footsteps she jerks back picking up Norah before the nurse comes in. She sits in the uncomfortable visitor chair, bouncing Norah on her knee. When the nurse leaves she checks Norah's diaper then watches her baby babble, standing to keep an eye on Marshall. When she thinks she sees him move she parks the baby on the bed for a closer look. Norah crawls forward stretching her hand toward Marshall's face. "No Norah," Mary admonishes quietly. Stubborn and determined Norah leans farther, almost touching his nose.

"Leave her Mare." Mary startles as she hears Marshall's raspy voice. His eyes are still closed. How long had he been awake?

He inhales deeply and his eyes flutter open. He turns his head and smiles at Norah. "Welcome back Doofus. You picked a hell of a time for a nap." Before saying any more, she pushes the nurse call button and tells them Marshall is awake.

By the time the nurse arrives Marshall's eyes are closed and he doesn't stir when the nurse starts unhooking him for transport. "They're ready for him in imaging."

Mary checks her name tag. "He woke up. Just before you came in. Why is he asleep now? What happened?"

"It's not unusual for patients with head injuries to awaken for brief periods of time. They can talk and even respond, but when they finally wake up, they don't remember any of it." Mary's relieved. Spilling her guts to a comatose Marshall is a universe different than doing it when he's awake. "He should be back in an hour," she informs Mary. "You'll be in the waiting room?" Mary nods, and hugs Norah like a security blanket, her eyes following Marshall's gurney.

Back in the waiting room she lets Joanna know what's happening then sinks into a corner chair and puts her feet up, her sleepy daughter on her chest. Seeing their eyes close, Joanna covers them with the blanket. Mary awakens to the susurration of the room's vents. Joanna is resting nearby. Mary peers under the blanket at her daughter and rests her head against the wall.

The next thing Mary knows, there's a nurse gently shaking her shoulder. "Mr. Dieufus is back in his room. You can go in now." Without a word, Mary sloughs off the blanket careful not to wake Norah. Diaper bag in hand she scurries to follow the nurse.

Marshall's eyes are closed when she gets to his bedside. She's preparing to sit when Marshall blinks, rocks his head from side to side then focuses on her. "Mare? How long?" he croaks. "How long was I out?"

Mary checks the clock. "About six hours."

He moves his head limbering up stiff neck muscles and reaches for the tube scratching his neck. "Leave that alone. They're draining the trivia out of your brain." She pushes the call button to let them know Marshall's awake again.

Marshall's brow furrows and his hand reaches for his neck. The nurse enters, smiles and takes his hand away from the bothersome tube, checking his pulse. "Leave that for now, Mr. Dieufus. You have a shunt installed to drain excess blood," she explains while checking the rest of the monitors. "Glad you decided to join us."

Marshall grimaces and blinks. "What did you say?"

Mary snorts finally having something to smile about. "It's your name," Mary insists. "Marshall D-I-E-U-F-U-S." Then she whispers, "We didn't want your real name on the hospital's records."

Marshall glares at her. "Let me guess. You came up with it?"

Mary shrugs one shoulder. "Yeah. Had to have something easy to remember." She looks at the nurse. "How is he doing?"

"His vitals are good."

"He's right here," Marshall protests.

"Yes, Mr. Dieufus," the nurse apologizes. "Track my finger. Do you know what day it is?" She proceeds through the questions which Marshall answers correctly – except for his name. "Your temperature is 98.4, you blood pressure is 114/75 and your pulse rate is 54. All normal," she assures them. "I'll tell the doctor and he'll be here to go over the MRI and CT results. Nice to meet you Mr. Dieufus," she smirks.

Marshall groans and closes his eyes. "You're enjoying this."

"Damn straight. There's been way too little to smile about today. Hey, Bug!" She reaches for Norah who had crawled onto Marshall's chest. Norah creeps up on her target. She tweaks Marshall's nose and he responds with a weak 'honk,' much to the baby's delight.

Marshall finds the bed controls and elevates it so Norah scoots down to his lap. He goes to take her hands but the bandage on his left arm keeps it from bending all the way. He still manages to do patty cake, making her smile. Now that he's sitting up he can see the two men outside his door.

"What's with the guards?"

"After the firefight in the warehouse someone called you by name. Do you remember that?"

He smiles broadly at Norah and guides her hand to her nose. "No, I don't."

"That's why you left the room. The cavalry arrived, there was a lot of shouting and someone called your name. You got out from behind the wooden desk. Do you remember that?"

"In that warehouse office? We used it for cover?"

"Right." She's relieved he remembers something. "Then someone called your name, you walked out into the warehouse." She hesitates to fill in the blanks, but if it was her, she'd want to know. "Caldwell saw everything going to hell and figured he'd take it out on you."

"He shot me?"

"Yeah. Lucas and Michael took him down. He's in federal custody."

When she sees the doctor in the doorway, she moves away, taking Norah. The doctor explains what happened and shows Marshall the scans. "What's this?" Marshall points to a bright blob near the base of his skull.

"Very observant. That's to drain the hematoma. It will be removed later today."

"When will I be discharged?"

"We're keeping you for observation tonight. Once the shunt is removed it takes a few hours to make sure there's no additional bleeding. While we're waiting you can order something to eat. The nurse will bring you a menu. I'll be back to check on you once the shunt is removed."

Marshall plants his head on the pillow, discouraged. He doesn't want to be here. Who is going to trace the tentacles of Caldwell's connections? Until they know more he isn't safe and neither is anyone with him.

When the nurse leaves Marshall pats the bed next to him shifting his gaze from Norah to Mary. "I want to see my Norah girl, if that's okay with her momma."

Mary sits Norah beside him. "I can bring you some real food," she offers as he peruses the menu the nurse left.

"No, it's okay. Anesthesia and pain meds make everything taste odd anyway. But I could use some water." She hands him a cup and a straw. He drinks then puts it on the tray table and scrabbles for the bedside house phone, holding it out of Norah's reach. While he waits for the kitchen to answer, he points to several items, silently asking if Mary wants them. She shakes her head. Once he's placed his order he sits back thinking about what the doctor said. "A bullet has considerable velocity. The helmet's bullet proof but that doesn't eliminate the impact." It's a relief to know the reason he passed out. "What else have they found out about Caldwell?"

"He was blackmailing an FBI agent and an AUSA," Mary tells him. "We're not sure how far his connections go. I called Stan and he had extra marshals assigned to make sure he stays locked up."

Marshall cocks his head. "Did you transport him?" his voice is still scratchy.

"Nyah. If I hauled him in he'd only make it halfway. He's a disgrace to the Marshal Service and the human race. The world would be better off without the damn prevaricating dirt bag."

"Prevaricating? Pretty fancy vocabulary for a Jersey girl." He's trying for their normal banter.

"I've been trying to clean up my act," she nods towards Norah. "Kids only say the words you don't want them to."

"True." Marshall holds his finger out for Norah to grab.

Mary clasps her hands and shuffles her feet wondering if she did the right thing. "I didn't call your folks, or Abigail. I didn't have anything to tell them till now."

"Good," he sighs. "Mom would be on the next flight out. I'll tell her when I call."

Mary cut her eyes at him with her 'sure you will' look. Marshall turns away. She reaches for Norah but Marshall protests. "I got her, Mare."

After minutes of awkward silence and baby babble Mary clears her throat. "Lucas said I should talk to you." Marshall raises an eyebrow. He had noticed that Mary is wearing a man's jacket over her marshal's windbreaker.

"He said I need to figure out why I freaked out when you fell." Hands at her sides she has yet to look him in the eye. "Maybe I can't do the job anymore. Maybe having Norah has made me soft."

"Mary," he chided. "That's not true. You rescued Davey. You took out two gunmen! You protected your witness. That's not someone too 'soft' to do the job."

"Yeah, well," she fingers the zipper of the windbreaker. "Heat of the moment and all that."

"Exactly," he agrees. "You did the right thing, despite shots being fired, despite the confusion of the raid. When you saw that Lucas and Michael were unable to return fire you did. You saved their lives."

Mary still won't look at him. "Then why did I go into shock once we got you to the hospital? There was no blood, you were fine just seconds before. You talked, walked, and then boom, you were on the floor." She looks at him her brow furrowed. "You scared me."

Holding Norah firmly with one large hand, Marshall reaches for Mary's. "Sorry Sunshine."

Finally she looks at him. "Why do you think I did that?" She always looked to him for answers. She knew she was blind when it came to herself.

Marshall watches Norah twist her hands and stuff them in her mouth. "Mary, I can't tell you. Only you can figure it out."

Mary harrumphs. "What happened to your peed a terror in my head?"

"Pied a terre," Marshall corrects automatically. "Maybe you should talk to Shelley?"

As expected she frowns and protests, "Sure, my favorite thing. Talking about my feelings to a shrink. You know I never talk to her unless I have to."

Marshal gives her a small smile. "If you can't figure it out, maybe you have to. Look at it this way. You haven't seen her after rescuing Davey. And you fired your weapon today. You'll be fulfilling the requirement for counseling for both events and you can talk to her about why you went into shock. Better than a twofer. More like a threefer."

She punches his arm lightly, grousing, "You're no help."

Knowing Mary has had her fill of dealing with her emotions Marshall nods, eyes on Norah, "Uh huh."

"Could you get me more water?" he gestures toward the carafe on the nightstand next to the bed. She refills the cup. He sips, then hands it back.

Marshall has stopped watching Norah, his eyes now on Mary, making her nervous. "I feel about you the way I feel about Bug," she blurts.

Marshall's eyes open wide and he reaches for her free hand. "What do you mean Mare?"

"Well I'm not going to be changing your diapers." Then she shudders and looks away. "When I think of you I feel, I dunno, warm?" She rubs her chest. "And it's not heartburn. Crazy huh? What is that? And don't tell me to ask Shelley."

"We're friends, best friends. Friends care about one another." Marshall refuses to believe she means anything more. Earlier he thought he heard her say she loved him, but he could have been dreaming. After all this time, he's not about to get his hopes up.

Mary picks up Norah, holding her like a shield. "No," she sniffs, "not like that. We used to fit together like two puzzle pieces. When you asked me to release you, it left. . . you left a hole in my life, in me." She hugs her daughter tighter. "Nothing has hurt like that since Daddy left."

Mary had relied on him. He promised he wouldn't leave then he asked her to release him? How does that track? He'd let her down. "Mare? What are you saying?"

"All I know is that this is different. When I saw you fall I saw a world without you in it. I don't want to live there Marshall."

He reaches for her, stroking Norah's back. "What do you want?"

She sniffs. "I want you to get well. I want to . . . . get out of here and think. Lucas told me to look at how I reacted and figure out why. I can't. It doesn't make sense."

"Not even Mary sense?"

She smirks. "No, not even Mary sense."

"If you can't talk to Shelley yet, talk to Lucas. He's done a lot of counseling."

"He said I should talk to you. You know me better."

Marshall puts his head back looking away from mother and daughter. "Let me get out of here first. We can deal with the other stuff later. Besides we need to make sure I'm not still number 1 on somebody's hit parade."

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who is reading or following this story. Special thanks to MEg, the lone ranger, er ah, the lone reviewer!


	21. Unraveling Caldwell

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

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Provoked Too – Chapter 21 – Unraveling Caldwell

"Mr. Dieufus?" a man in scrubs asks.

"That would be me," Marshall replies tiredly. The orderly places the food on the tray table and moves it over the bed. Mary and Norah step out of the way. Marshall raises the bed and checks under the food covers. Seeing the disheveled woman and sleepy toddler, he asks. "You want some pudding? I ordered extra."

"Umm. Tempting but I'd have to share and Norah hasn't had pudding yet."

Fork in hand he looks her way. "Go home Mare. Norah's tired, you're tired."

Mary gives his shoulder a farewell squeeze. "Okay." She nuzzles Norah. "Let's go see Grandma Joanna. She'll take us home and you can have peaches." Norah smiles. Looking over her shoulder Mary teases, "Call me when they release you from this hellhole Mr. Dieufus. I'll arrange transport."

Eyeing the guards outside his door, Marshall wonders exactly where he will go. Is his house safe? Caldwell could have his home address. Wait! Abigail is still living at their place. How can he warn her without compromising the investigation?

When she doesn't see Joanna in the waiting room Mary checks her phone and finds a voicemail from Joanna. Mark picked her up. She also gives Mary the location of the mom-mobile. Mary sighs. She could use some time alone, time to think. Marshall is safe for tonight. She had just snapped Norah into her car seat when her phone rings. "This is Mary."

Marshall quickly explains his concern for Abigail. Caldwell could have given his address to his gun toting buddies. If they were after Marshall, they could hit his house.

"What a shit storm." She rubs her forehead. "Oh god, who do I call? Who can we trust?"

 _Call Chief Paradiso. He'll know about today's rescue. Hell he may have already taken care of this. Let me know what he says._

"Sure thing Chief." After spilling her guts in Marshall's room she needs to distance herself, protect herself from the turmoil of her feelings.

Mary calls the Chief of Police. He knew about the raid. He didn't know that someone had called Marshall by name. Even though Abigail is suspended, the department takes care of its own. _"_ _I'll see to it. What about you Inspector? You were at the warehouse too. I'll arrange a security detail for tonight."_

"Thanks Chief." Mary sighs drawing her hand over her forehead. Where is my brain today?

Next call, Marshall. With one eye on Norah, Mary dials his hospital room. "I hate to disturb your fine dining experience but I figured you'd want to know Abigail's Chief will take care of her and me."

"Oh god, you're right. Caldwell would have your address too. Damn, I should have thought of that."

"Me too Chief. At least you have the excuse of having your brain drained today. The Chief told me it was better if I didn't know the details." She snickers thinking of all the times she's used that exact phrase. "Get some rest Doofus."

 _"_ _That's Mr. Dieufus to you,"_ Marshall retorts.

The drive home is uneventful. Mary gets her drowsy baby out of the car and hauls herself and Norah's baggage into the house. A new diaper a change of clothes, a jar of peaches and Norah is ready for bed. Mary's too tired to make dinner. She's sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of beer and the baby monitor when her phone rings. Lucas.

 _How is he?_

"He's awake and seems okay. Doc's keeping him overnight to make sure his brain's done bleeding. I told him all that trivia was bad for his health."

 _How are you?_

"Tired, hungry, confused."

 _I'll be over with dinner in half an hour. Okay?_

"If you want beer, you'd better bring it. DO NOT ring the doorbell. I just got Norah to sleep."

 _I'll text you._

"Good."

After hanging up she sits and sips pondering the day's events. Tonight would be a good time to talk to Lucas. He should be able to give her some insight into why she is feeling this way. Introspection is not her style, and lacking practice she isn't very good at it.

Her phone beeps. Lucas is at the door with bags of Mexican takeout and Michael. "C'mon in. I didn't realize your invitation was plus one."

"Hi Mary," Michael smiles ingratiatingly. "There have been some developments you should know about and I figured we could eat and talk and . . . . drink. I brought beer," he holds up two six packs as if that would make it all better. Hell, maybe it would.

"Yeah, yeah. C'mon in. There've been a few developments on this end too." They saunter to the kitchen where Lucas is laying out containers of chips, guacamole, rice, beans, tacos, and burritos.

Mary sits, grabs a burrito and takes a bite, while Michael opens the beer. "The police Chief will make sure Abigail is safe." Michael looks confused. "Abigail is Marshall's fiancée. Uh, former fiancée. She's still living in their house."

"Aha," Michael hands her a beer. "If Caldwell or his buddies have the address she's in the line of fire."

"That's if Marshall is being targeted. Do we know that?" Mary needs to know if he needs additional protection. She's ready to relocate him if necessary. Stan would approve it. Assuming Marshall would go.

Michael takes the beer Lucas hands him. "Umm, we don't think so."

"Not good enough," Mary contends between bites.

"I know I know. These things take time. We haven't connected all the dots yet." Michael confesses.

Lucas takes a taco. "We know Caldwell called Marshall's name and shot him. What we don't know who he's working with besides the Feeb and the AUSA."

Mary crunches a chip and considers. How can she be sure someone else isn't after them? She's not Caldwell's favorite Inspector.

Michael picks up the tale. "So far none of the Boss's customers have mentioned any marshals. They don't even know Caldwell is a marshal. No marshal's names appear in any of their records, and let me tell you, these guys are obsessive record keepers. Of course we've only looked at the last two years. The Boss's stuff is a mess. We think they tried to corrupt the files but didn't do much. They did know Albuquerque PD was nosing around, but didn't seem to know who. The snitch," he coughs, "protected witness, doesn't know the real names of the guys in charge but he's seen their faces. They've called in a sketch artist."

Mary could see that asshat Caldwell shooting Marshall just for spite. Caldwell shouldn't be able to reach out to any of his friends as long as he's locked up. "How many friends does this douche have?"

Michael has crammed half a burrito in his mouth so he waves at Lucas to answer. "They think he blackmailed the Feeb and the AUSA. Somehow in the course of his WitSec duties he found something incriminating. There could be others."

"Where are those two now?" Mary helps herself to a taco.

"They are under surveillance." Lucas looks at Michael who nods in confirmation. "The ATF thinks there's another supplier ready to pick up where the Boss left off. If there are others they could be there when the deal goes down. Michael says they will grab them all when they meet."

Mary stares at Michael. Does she trust his intel? She barely knows him. How certain are they that other marshals aren't involved? Still Lucas trusts him. At least she thinks he does. "What do you think Lucas? If it was your life would you be leaving the hospital without protection?"

"My life?" Lucas asks. "Sure. I can take care of myself." He leans his shoulder against hers. "You know, if you really wanted to gauge my trust in this you should have asked me if I was willing to bet your life."

Mary scrunches her nose and furrows her brow. _What in the hell is that supposed to mean?_

"And the answer is no, it's not solid enough. If this douche has Marshall's address he could have yours. Right?"

"Maybe." Mary had already considered that.

"In that case you should be in a safe house with Norah. If you don't go tonight I'm staying until all the parties involved are under lock and key or dead. I'm sure Michael or your old chief would authorize a security detail for Marshall."

Instead of bristling at his attempt to run her life, Mary cocks her head. "I know," she states casually taking another swallow. "You didn't happen to notice the security detail down the block? Or the guy on the lounge chair by my pool?" She points her bottle to her back yard. "Either those guys are better than I thought or you two are getting sloppy. The police chief arranged it."

Lucas and Michael look appropriately chastened. "I don't look for security guards around the women I date, but you're right, that's no excuse." He and Michael clink bottles. "Good for you, Mary, but you're not getting rid of me tonight."

"Okay, okay. Fess up Lucas, you got a thing for my couch." Not her usual level of snark, but tonight she doesn't have the energy. "Marshall's safe for noe but I know he wants to be out investigating Caldwell. If the docs hadn't insisted, he'd be home now." She sighs. "We tell Marshall everything we know ASAP. All right?"

"Sure, why not," Michael agrees. "Four heads are better than three. He might have learned something from Albuquerque PD that can help. There's a task force meeting about Caldwell tomorrow at the Federal Building." He points his bottle at Mary. "It's at 1 o'clock. You need to be there."

Mary narrows her eyes figuring out how to do that. It feels like she's been out of the office for weeks. How long can Delia handle things?

Michael finishes his beer and thumps it on the table. "Gotta go. Places to go, people to see. Call me if you learn anything new."

As her front door closes she and Lucas sit staring at what's left of the meal. "You want another beer?" Mary offers. "I don't stock the good stuff, so it's now or never."

"Sure. Let me help you clean up first."

"Leave the chips!" Her request is muffled as she puts leftovers in the fridge. Knowing Mary he leaves the guacamole too.

Beers in hand, elbows on the table, Mary sighs. "Even if I had a safe house, I'm too tired to go anywhere tonight."

"So I'll stay and be your personal guard dog."

"Yeah. Like you said not for me, for Norah."

Since they have all night Mary brings up the topic that's been on her mind. "I talked to Marshall about why I reacted like that. He wasn't any help." She takes a chip. "He said I should talk to you because you've done a lot of counseling."

Lucas demurs. "I'm no counselor but I've talked to my share of troubled folks. However," he seeks her eyes, "their troubles were different from what's bothering you."

"That's just it. I can't put my finger on what it is. Why I would be so weak? I asked Marshall if it meant I couldn't do the job anymore, if being a mother made me soft. He didn't think so."

"And neither do I," Lucas says sincerely. "I've seen you do what's needed. I owe you my life Mary."

She turns away. Compliments make her twitchy, especially when they are sincere.

"As to why you went into shock. You were running on adrenalin and ran out. That's the simple explanation. The bigger question is why were you so jacked up in the first place? In the warehouse, you were cool as a cucumber. I've seen battle tested vets more on edge. When did you start feeling different?"

Mary closes her eyes and tilts her head back. "When Marshall fell. When he went down right outside that office. I wasn't expecting that." Her eyes are far away, remembering. "It scared me."

"I bet there isn't much that frightens you Mary."

She harrumphs. "These days, with Norah, I'm scared all the time."

"That's called being a parent," Lucas assures her.

"But I'm not Marshall's mother. Why would I react like that when I saw him go down?"

Lucas holds his beer in front of his mouth and looks into her eyes. "Think about that for a minute. Why would you have a reaction to seeing your partner…."

"Former partner," she interjects holding his gaze.

"Seeing your former partner fall. What were you thinking at the time? Were you even thinking?"

Mary closes her eyes going back to that awful time. "I didn't. I just felt. I felt as if someone had yanked my guts out. I swear I couldn't breath."

"Okay, good. You know how you felt, now think about why you would feel that way."

Mary pounds her beer onto the table. "That's just it. I can't."

Lucas takes her hand. "Yes you can. You know the answer. You just don't want to say it out loud. Don't worry about me."

Mary drops her head. Her hair falls shielding her face. When she looks at Lucas he sees pain, longing and confusion. "God help me, I think I love him. Dammit!"

"There you go. That wasn't so hard was it?" This was what he feared from the getgo. For once he didn't want to be right.

Mary shakes her head. It wasn't easy. It was the hardest thing she's ever done, but after admitting it to an unconscious Marshall this time was easier.

Lucas rises and puts his hand on her shoulder. "I love you Mary, but I know I wouldn't be the love of your life. No matter what you decide, I will be your friend."

"Promise? I don't have many friends." She smiles sadly.

"I promise."

Mary sniffs back tears. "God, I haven't been such a blubbering mess since I was housing Bug." She stands and walks to the hallway. "Let me get you blankets and a pillow."

She returns and Lucas takes the bedding from her and whispers, "No matter what, Mary Shannon, you are a fascinating woman." He kisses her on the cheek and goes to the couch.

Mary gets to her bedroom, closes the door and puts her back against it. She closes her eyes and moans. "What in the hell do I do now?"

* * *

A/N: Mexican again? Does Lucas only know one takeout place?


	22. Wondering

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

* * *

Provoked Too – Chapter 22 - Wondering

Lying in his hospital bed Marshall wonders about lots of things. _How am I supposed to sleep with the nurses doing neuro checks every 2 hours? Why would Abigail think I was working for the Boss? Did Mary really say she loved me? How could I have asked her to release me?_

Being stuck in the hospital gave him too much time to think. What did Mary mean when she said she feels about him the way she feels about Norah? He had to admit that seeing her with Lucas makes him queasy. Is he jealous? He remembers how angry he had been when he and Abigail first saw them together at the restaurant. Why wasn't he happy that she had found someone? She was happy for him. Wasn't she?

Mary never saw him as a romantic interest. Mary? Romantic? Not happening. _But she did go into shock._ Yes, but only after he was in the ER. If she really loved him wouldn't she have reacted immediately? But this is Mary. She prides herself on being tough and taking care of her witnesses and her family before herself. Would the same apply to him? Did she wait to break down until he was taken care of?

Too many possibilities whirl around his sore head. Mary is the most frustrating partner, the most exasperating woman he has ever met. Her cynical view of humanity, her disregard for her own safety, her sarcastic balls to the wall personality exhausted him. He had worked hard to understand her. He had hundreds of examples of her reactions and he still couldn't always predict what she would do or say. She frustrated and fascinated him.

And now there was another man attracted to his Mary. He snorts. His Mary? Right. If she ever heard him say that way he'd be black and blue for months. Even being Chief wouldn't protect him if he disrespected her that way.

This man, Lucas, wasn't Mary's choice. He had sought her out, pursued her. Of all the men she had been with, Lucas was the pick of the litter, the cream of the crop. He was decent, brave, and in his own way, wise. Who was he to come between them?

But Lucas couldn't know her any better than Abigail knew him. Almost ten years of partnership had given them insights that couldn't be gained in a few months. Abigail. Despite his desire for a committed relationship, despite how close he had come to marrying her, he didn't feel as sad or distressed, as he thought he should. Were they committed to commitment but not to each other?

Checking the clock he realizes he has time to call his mom.

 _Mann residence._

"Hi Mom."

 _Marshall?_

No sense in beating around the bush. It's why he called her. "Abigail and I called off the wedding."

 _Oh Marshall. This sounds like pre-wedding jitters. I'm sure you can work through it._

"No, I don't think so. She thought I was working for the gun runner she'd been investigating."

 _Oh my god how could she think that? That girl doesn't have her head screwed on straight._

Of course, she's his mother but her confidence in his honesty is genuine. "I know. At least I know now. I thought I knew her. I thought she knew me. Turns out she didn't. We looked like a couple, even acted like it, but we were, are strangers."

 _If she really knew you she would never accuse you of working with a criminal. That's unbelievable!_

Marshall sighs, feeling anew the depth of Abigail's betrayal. "She said she loved me and then she believes some stranger's lies about me?" All he ever wanted was someone to love him as he has loved Mary. Someone to complete him. Someone to have his back.

 _Well, there's love and then there's LOVE._

"What do you mean?"

 _You can love someone, even think you are in love with them, but somewhere in the recesses of your being, you know your heart belongs to another. Not everyone finds the love of their life. Many settle for less and are perfectly happy. They don't know any better._

"Did you?"

 _Did I what?_

"Did you find the love of your life?" He thinks he knows but he has to ask.

 _Your father is the love of my life. I couldn't stand him otherwise._

Marshall smiles. He had often wondered how she could love the abrasive unfeeling man his father appeared to be. "How did you know?"

 _I just knew. Well, that's not exactly true. I found myself measuring any other man I dated against Seth. None of them measured up. Is there a woman who is your standard?_

Marshall didn't have to think. "Yes."

 _Then she's the one. Whatever you do don't let her get away. Don't be the nice guy, the understanding friend. If she's the one for you, make her see you are the one for her. It may take some persuading, but I have faith in you son._

Did his mother know they were talking about Mary?

 _Where are you? I didn't recognize the number for this call._

"I'm in the hospital. It's just for observation," he quickly reassures her. "They insisted on keeping me overnight."

 _What happened?_

"A stupid accident with my riot helmet. It bent in such a way that it pushed on my temporal occipital bones. They just want to make sure I'm okay."

 _Oh dear. I hate to see my boy hurt._

"I'm not a boy anymore Mom."

 _You'll always be my boy. Let me get off the line so you can get some rest. Take care of yourself._

"I will."

 _Love you!_

"Love you too Mom."

Breakfast, such as it is, is served. More scans then finally, the doctor tells Marshall the hemorrhage has dissipated and as soon as the shunt is removed he can go home. As soon as that happens he calls Mary.

 _"_ _You ready to blow that pop stand cowboy?"_

"Yeah."

 _"_ _I'll be there before the ink dries on your get out of jail card."_ This is it, she thinks. The moment she's dreaded and anticipated. She and Marshall will be alone. She needs to talk to him, she should talk to him – providing he's rested and ready. Where should she take him? Her place is under surveillance. Lucas left this morning, going to his place to sleep. Is anywhere safe?

Marshall's dressed, ready and waiting when Mary arrives with Norah. "Sorry. Bug had to come too. Joanna's sick."

"So that's why I get this special treat?" Marshall reaches out to bop Norah on the nose, making her eyes cross.

"Yeah, and baby spit up and poop. It's your lucky day." She still didn't get what the deal is with babies - other people's babies that is.

"Who's taking care of her if Joanna's sick?"

Mary reaches for his bag. "I got that Mare. Leave it."

"Have you got any medication to pick up?" she asks as they walk down the hall. "I've got your badge and your holdout. Forensics has our Glocks."

"No. No meds. You never answered my question. Who's watching Norah today?"

Mary turns to him, frustrated. "I don't know, okay? I thought I'd bring her to work."

"I can watch her," Marshall offers. Outside he's cool, calm. Inside he's jumping up and down anticipating spending time with mini-Mary.

"What?" Mary heard him, but he's not making any sense.

"I can watch her. I'm not cleared for duty yet so I've got time."

"I can't ask my boss to watch my baby," she frowns.

"Why not? I'd love to spend a few hours with Norah-bean, and you didn't ask."

Mary considers for a minute. "There's a meeting of the task force investigating Caldwell. You're the Chief, you need to go."

"But I can't because I'm not cleared for duty. I can't act in an official capacity. You have to go. You know more about it. Besides, Caldwell might think he killed me. It will confuse him and his cohorts. Let me watch her. Norah and I will have a grand time." He chucks Norah under the chin and comes away with a finger full of drool wipeing it on his jeans, unconcerned. "When does she nap?"

"Oh sure. You want to watch her and the first thing you want to know is when she naps?" Mary's not sure this is a good idea, but her options are limited.

"Mare," he explains patiently, "I need to know her schedule. Babies do better if they have a routine. Norah will be happier if I can stick to it, but for that to work, I need to know what it is."

Mary has to admit that it makes sense. Why is she resisting free childcare? She trusts him but the need to talk to Marshall about them, us, has her nervous. "Joanna says she goes down," Mary checks the van's clock, "about now, and then another nap around 2 o'clock." She pauses to think as she puts on her seatbelt and Marshall gets in. "If her first nap is late, she won't go down till 4 o'clock and then she doesn't sleep as long, and goes to bed earlier. She always wakes up hungry so have something ready. You can call Joanna if you have any questions."

"I told you you would make a good mom." Despite his assurances, Mary still has her doubts.

Discharge forms in hand, they are in the hospital parking lot and Mary's loading Norah into her car seat. "You're sure?" Mary stops and regards him. "If Caldwell and Co. have your address, they probably have mine. There was a security detail at my place last night." She rolls her eyes. "My neighbors probably think I'm under arrest."

"In that case, we might be safer at my new place. The address isn't on file yet. Think Norah will go for it?"

"Maybe." She hesitates, but the need to know her child is safe outweighs any embarrassment at accepting help. "You'll need to take my van to haul all her stuff."

Arriving at her place Mary gets Norah out of her car seat and reaches for the diaper bag. "Let's get packing."

"Give her here." Marshall has been watching Mary unlatch Norah. "She needs to get used to me. Don't you bean?" he says as Mary hands her over.

Mary unlocks her door and cases the living room for anything embarrassing. Not bad. Marshall follows her to Norah's room where she starts refilling the diaper bag. That accomplished she gets a box while Marshall jostles the baby making her giggle. She dumps diapers, baby wipes and clothes into the box.

"Does she need that many outfits?" Marshall asks innocently.

"Yes!" Mary replies emphatically. "You better have a few more shirts and pants for yourself. She can surprise you. I need to grab a jacket for that meeting."

Marshall thinks she looks good just the way she is. He distracts himself by reaching into the box examining the baby cornstarch. "I use that when I change her," Mary explains. She grabs a changing pad and adds it to the box. Opening the closet she grabs some toys. Mary sees Marshall's eyes light up. "Don't make a bigger mess than the baby, okay?"

"What about food?"

Mary leads him to the kitchen and starts loading jars and pouches into the box. "You'll need a few of these." She stuffs bibs into the box. "Have you got a mop? You'll need it after you feed her." He repositions some items making better use of the space. "You have a gun safe. Right?" Her baby makes her extra cautious.

"Uh, yeah." He's somber as he remembers the Glock outfitted lock box Abigail got him. It was such a thoughtful gift, so unexpected. He was touched by her consideration and what it portended – a meaningful relationship. It was a good thing Abigail had her heart set on a particular venue that wasn't available till next year. Otherwise he'd be marrying a fraud.

Mary takes the baby and the stroller. Marshall adds a few board books, grabs the folded play yard in one hand and hoists the box onto his shoulder. Mary sets the alarm and locks the door. Realizing all this stuff needs to go up four floors he regrets his 'pent house.'

"Let me buckle her in," he says. "I need to be able to do this when I come get you." He doesn't need many pointers before Norah is secure. Norah is entertained by the man getting her ready to go.

With a final smooch to Norah's cheek, Mary puts on her jacket and is ready. "Thanks for doing this Marshall. Call Joanna if you have any questions." She sighs, feeling defeated that she can't answer details about Norah's day. "I'll be stuck in that meeting."

"We'll manage," he tells Norah. "Won't we?" Norah blinks and babbles. "Give me your keys Mare. I'll drop you off then Norah and I will go to the park." He gets in the driver's seat and adjusts it and the rear-view mirror. Mary resigns herself to being a passenger in her own car.

It's a short drive to the Federal Building and Mary decides there isn't enough time for the talk she's been dreading. Leaving her baby in a strange place adds to her anxiety. _But it's Marshall. He'll take good care of her_. He drops her off at the main entrance and she arrives at the conference room only a few minutes after the meeting is supposed to start. _Real professional Shannon. You're late and smell of baby vomit._ At least she has her black court jacket.

The large windowed room is full of people milling about getting coffee or water. Mary doesn't know all their names but she recognizes some and can guess which agencies the others represent. The long polished oval table and comfortable chairs make her apprehensive. ATF and the PD seemed to think her actions were appropriate. She won't be surprised if the other agencies aren't on board. Moving into the room she spots one friendly face, Michael.

She gives him the once over. "What's with the suit? You playing dress up? I thought the camo was welded on."

Michael hands her a bottle of water from the side table and ignores her comments. "Where's Marshall? Is he out of the hospital?"

"Yeah. He was discharged this morning. I didn't have anyone to take care of Norah so he's with her. He made me come to this meet and greet since he's on medical leave."

"You'll make a house husband out of him yet."

"He doesn't have far to go," Mary snarks. _He was comfortable driving her minivan._ A tall man in a gray suit from DoJ asks everyone to sit and the meeting is called to order.

The ATF have discovered several of the Boss's customers. They've traced guns that were shipped to the Boss crossing several states. After watching FBI agent and the AUSA tied to Caldwell both they and their new supplier are under arrest. Caldwell must have screwed over the two federals because they were quick to incriminate him in several drug deals as well as gun running. Hearing that, Mary realizes that's why the DEA has joined the party.

Finally they get to the firefights at the warehouse. Michael glosses over Mary's witness in his report on the first incident and his recap of his rescue covers everything so Mary keeps her mouth shut. Michael asks if anyone has evidence that the Boss or his customers are targeting marshals. No one does and although it's impossible to prove a negative, neither the Marshal Service or the FBI was able to find another marshal that had colluded with Caldwell. By the time the meeting is finished Mary thinks it's possible that they are safe, but not positive. Caldwell's shooting of Marshall was personal, but she's not ready to bet their lives on it.

When the meeting finishes Mary stands, stretching. She finds Michael and interrupts his conversation with another agent. "Can you give me a ride?"

Michael's looking around the room and turns to her. "Sure. I've got one more thing I have to do and then we can leave. It will just be a minute."

"Sure." Just what she's always wanted to do - hang around with a bunch of power ties.

He steps away to intercept the grey suited man who is on his way to the exit.

Mary calls Marshall to let him know she has a ride. Marshall tells her to skip the office and come straight to his place. He's checked with Delia and the office can survive without them for a few more hours. She gets in Michael's car briefly wondering about his connections and what they mean to the Caldwell investigation.

A/N: One more chapter and an epilogue to go.


	23. Mary and Marshall

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

* * *

Provoked Too – Chapter 23 – Mary and Marshall

Mary gave Michael directions to Marshall's. She thanked him for the ride and braced herself for the four story climb cursing the fact that all Bug's paraphernalia will have to come down the same way. When she gets to the third floor a delicious smell reminds her that she missed lunch. Following the scent she ends up at Marshall's door.

While she catches her breath she texts Marshall hoping Norah is asleep. The door opens and Marshall stands dish towel in hand, another tucked into his waistband and a wet spot on his shoulder. She's never seen him look so adorable. _Well, make that adorkable._ He put his finger to his lips and gently closes the door pointing to the play yard in his living room.

"You got her to sleep?" Mary whispers as she tiptoes to see Norah. She had no idea Bug would sleep in a new place. Moving away she confronts Marshall. "What did you do? Lull her unconscious with teddy bear trivia?"

"That's between Norah and I," he replies archly. He takes her hand and leads her to the bedroom closing the door part way. "We can talk here without disturbing her." He gestures toward the bed, the only place to sit in the small room.

"What's that smell?" She inhales appreciatively as she sits.

Marshall puts down the towel and joins her, shrugging. "I figured you'd be hungry and I gotta eat so I made dinner."

Mary regards him out of the corner of her eye. "Really Julia? Why haven't I ever had your cooking?"

"My cooking style is more Prudhomme, and you never asked," he dismisses her query. "What happened at the meeting?"

"Not much, except the DEA has been added to the mix. Guns weren't the only thing the Boss was running. They found drugs in the pipeline. But the good news is the Marshal Service hasn't found any other marshals under Caldwell's thumb."

Marshall leans back. "Meaning we're safe."

"Yeah. As safe as we ever are. As far as the FBI, ATF and Marshals can tell none of Caldwell's customers are targeting marshals. The White Knights have a bounty on ATF agents, but that's being handled."

"So he didn't foul his own nest?" Was the Marshall Service really clear of Caldwell's blight?

She nods emphatically. "Looks that way. They checked out his contacts here and in Phoenix. The FBI arrested the agent he turned as well as the AUSA he blackmailed." She smirks. "Those two rolled over on Caldwell faster than a knife fight in a phone booth. And, they were arrested when they were making a deal with a new supplier. All three should be partaking of Uncle Sam's hospitality for years to come." Mary lets her shoulders slump. She should be able to relax now, but sitting so close to Marshall is making her nervous.

Marshall is always tuned to radio Mary. Seeking to ally her discomfort he offers, "You want a beer before dinner?"

"Sure." Anything to postpone the inevitable, the talk.

Mary's rehearsing what she wants to say when Marshall holds out a beer. She suppresses a startle and takes the bottle. Who knew cowboy boots could be so quiet? "Dinner is ready." He checks the time. "Norah's been asleep for half an hour. Think we could venture into the kitchen without waking her?"

Mary takes a long draught and rolls her head back. "Sure. Wish I had the baby monitor. Once she's down for the night she's usually good for 3-4 hours. But she's never slept here and I didn't kiss her good night."

"Well," he smiles smugly, "She got lots of kisses and snuggles from Uncle Marshall. C'mon Mare. I know you're hungry. If she wakes up, she wakes up."

"Yeah, okay." She stands and heads for the tiny kitchen. "I've got to see what smells so damn good." Marshall holds a chair out for her and she glares at him but sits.

Soon he's at her elbow. "Buenos dias, senorita. Welcome to Casa Marshall home of carnitas especial."

Mary narrows her eyes and gives him her are-you-trying-to-be-funny look which is less hostile than her are-you-nuts look. Marshall takes that as a good sign. Towel over his arm he presents her with a plate of carnitas, warm tortillas and salsa and returns to the fridge for his beer. Mary waits till Marshall is seated with his own plate then begins scooping meat onto a tortilla.

"Mmm," She murmurs around a mouthful. Chewing she swallows. "Guacamole would go good with this." Before she finishes chewing, Marshall is heading back to the refrigerator.

"Your wish is my command." He sets a bowl of guacamole down with a flourish. All too soon the food is devoured. Mary pushes her chair back and belches into her napkin, trying to figure out how to start the conversation that could change her life.

Out of the blue Marshall asks, "Did you mean what you said?"

"What? When?" Mary had been thinking about how domestic this was, how comfortable. She wonders if Lucas has a kitchen, or knows what to do in one.

"In the hospital," he elaborates.

"Yes I meant it! It was a bad time for you to take a nap," she squints at him and takes another swig of beer.

"I heard what you said earlier. When you and Norah first came into the room. You said. . . ." He inhales sharply, afraid to repeat her words only to have her deny them. "Have you thought about what you said, about us?" Mary freezes with the bottle halfway to her mouth. He heard that? Isn't this the opening she is waiting for?

Seeing her confusion Marshall explains. "It took too much effort to open my eyes. I thought I was dreaming. Then I smelled that sweet baby," he says with a silly smile. "Babies have a unique scent."

"Yeah, encrusted food, spit up and dirty diapers," Mary grouses.

"No - the purity of innocence. It had to be Norah. She's the only baby who's mama might bring her to see me. Then I got caught up remembering what happened in the warehouse. The beeping monitors told me I was in a hospital, but I didn't know why. The wound in my arm wasn't that bad. Then I heard your voice, except you sounded scratchy and hoarse." He thought she had been crying but he wasn't going to tell her that. "I heard you Mare. Right before the nurse came in to take me for the scans. I heard you say you loved me. Did you mean it?"

Mary hugs herself trying to figure out what to say and how to say it. Her chest feels heavy and she thinks she's about to cry, again. Is she torn because she doesn't want to let him down, again? Or is she afraid to face the truth? Why would he want her?

"C'mon Mare. It's just me. You can tell me anything." _Just put me out of my misery. It won't be the first time you rejected me._

"That's just it," she hiccups raising her head to look at him. "It's you and I don't want to hurt you. You're my best friend. I don't want that to change, but dammit, I need you in my life. But if you're my boss. . . ."

"Don't worry about that. The fact that I'm your Chief doesn't change the way you feel, does it?"

"No, but it changes what I can do. What we can do. When we were partners I was careful not to think of you as anything else. Being partners is, was, enough. It had to be. Despite that I sucked you into all kinds of Shannon drama. You didn't deserve that."

Marshall reaches for her hand. "You didn't deserve it either Sunshine. You didn't suck me in. You were my partner and I had your back. Your mother, your sister took so much it was a wonder you had anything left to give to the job. But you did. You kept your witnesses in the program and got them to testify. Remember when you put that smiley face on the pot head's microphone? You knew exactly what it would take to calm him down so he could do it. Even after they testified, you keep in touch. You care."

Mary grimaces. "Don't spread that around." She's not convinced. "That's the job. I can do the job dammit, I just can't do me! I don't think I can do us. My life is a pinball careening from one flipper to the next. I learned that I never get what I want so I taught myself not to want anything, anyone." She blinks several times.

Choking back her tears she continues. "Then there was you. Only you ever asked me what I needed. I never knew what that meant but I liked having you at my beck and call." She gives him a watery smile. "I took advantage of you, ordered you around, disrespected you, and yet you stayed. Until Abigail came along."

"Mary, most of the things you ordered me to do were for a witness. I did them when I agreed with your assessment of the situation. If I disagreed, I let you know. I wasn't your lapdog." Marshall replies seriously. "I tried to keep you in my life, but when Abigail and I were together you pushed me out!"

She pauses, brushing her hair aside so she could look into his eyes. "Yeah, well that's because I didn't belong in your life then. You told me as much that night on the balcony." She takes a deep breath and looks away. "It's taken me all these years but," she sniffs. "Now I know. What I need is you. Someone who gets me, someone who calls me on my bullshit and makes me think." Tears are dripping down her cheek unacknowledged.

Marshall is torn seeing her so distraught, but ecstatic that she's admitting that she wants him. Does this mean she loves him? His hopes plummet when she says "But I can't have you. I can't saddle you with me. I don't do art galleries and museums. I don't like trying new things. I think origami is a waste of time and I don't dance."

"Don't I get a say in this Mare? What about what I need, who I need? I don't care if you don't dance. I can teach you. Origami isn't a team sport and there's other things I can do with my talented fingers," he arches his eyebrow." That other stuff doesn't matter. It's superficial. That's what I realized when Abigail accused me of working with the Boss. She only knew the art gallery, book collector part of me. I never let her see the total geek lawman I really am. You are the only one who knows me, all of me."

Mary sniffs. "And bad ass. Don't forget bad ass."

Marshall smiles. "See, you **can** say nice things about me."

Mary wipes her cheeks. "A friend is someone who knows who you really are and likes you anyway. You're my friend, and I shouldn't want anything more."

He reaches across the small table and takes both her hands in his. "Yes you should. You should be happy. You should be loved. And you are. I love you Mare. I have since that first road trip with Claudia and Henry. The way you got Henry to shape up, the comfort you gave Claudia, the childhood memories you shared, that's who you are. That's who I love as much as I love the brass balled bitch who protects her witnesses and defends me."

Mary looks up, startled. "When did I defend you?"

"You think I don't know what you said to my Dad? You thought the man walked on water but you didn't hesitate to call him out when you knew he was wrong and I was right. He told me he was glad I had you to watch my back. Did you know that after meeting Abigail he asked me why I was with her? He thought I should be with you. He knew you're the yin to my yang."

"Don't say yang," she sniffed. "Or yin."

"Face it Mare, we're two parts of a whole. You make me whole. 'Come live with me and be my love and we will all the pleasures prove.'" For once she doesn't disparage his use of poetry.

Mary is touched by the sentiment but can't admit it. "Christopher Marlow? Seriously?"

"Damn straight I'm serious. But see what you just did there?" He leans back, releasing her hands. "You project this rough unlettered persona, but I know you're more than a Die Hard fan. You couldn't make it through college without some exposure to literature and the arts. And I know" he leans forward and shakes a finger at her, "some of it stuck." He sits back smiling. "You just outed yourself Sunshine."

"So I know a poem, that doesn't make us soulmates."

"Not just that no. But you said releasing me was a mistake, that it created a void in your life even Norah couldn't fill."

Eyes red, hair tangled, cheeks wet, she frowns. "I never said that."

"Not in those exact words, but 'a hole in my life, in me?' You said that in the hospital."

Mary drops her head. "Yeah, I did."

"So let's fix that hole. Let me be your love. You do love me, don't you?"

Eyes glossy with unshed tears, Mary locks her gaze on him. "Yes, but I'll never call you sugar bear."

Relieved that she's willing to entertain the thought of them together, Marshall sighs and lets his fear fade. "I would never expect you to. Doofus is good enough."

Mary snickers. "That's Mr. Dieufus."

Marshall laughs. "What have we got to lose. I know you, all of you and you know me, all of me."

Mary rolls her eyes, but Marshall sees a glimmer of hope. "I don't know _all_ of you, not yet," she smirks. Marshall blushes and she's amused. But Mary can't keep reality from intruding. "How are we going to do this? I can't work for you if we're, you know, together."

"No worries. Stan's been looking for other positions for both of us." Marshall's smiling, relaxed, but not letting go of her hands.

"Why both of us? You just made Chief. I should be the one looking for a job."

"I wouldn't make that decision for you, and you shouldn't make it for me either. My interests are many and varied. There are other things I can do besides being Chief."

"How much does origami pay?" she jibes. "You're a fifth-generation marshal! WitSec is your life."

"You're wrong, Mare. My life would be complete with you and Norah." Marshall stands and pulls her up into his arms. "I want to come home with you every night and sleep beside you. I want to tuck Norah in and read her stories. I want to take her to her first day of kindergarten. I want to see her graduate from college. And yes, I even want to change her diapers no matter how gross."

Mary's smiles fondly and puts her hands on his chest. "You got it bad Doofus."

Marshall hangs his head and softly says, "Well, I'd have you and Norah. That's a good deal. Mary, I want to be your husband."

Mary shrugs and looks at him out of the corner of her eye. "About that marriage thing. We don't have to have a wedding, do we? That didn't work out so well for either of us."

His heart leaps. "Mary my love, would you marry me?"

"Sure, I guess." Despite her unenthusiastic shrug her gaze is direct, intense.

It's Marshall's turn to roll his eyes. "Not the undying romantic declaration of love I was hoping for."

"I thought you said you knew me." She grins and smacks his chest. "This is me Doofus. I don't do romance."

"But will you do forever, with me?"

She stands and pulls him up. Still holding his hand, she leads him to the bedroom. They stand next to the bed and just before their lips meet she says, "I promise you forever, one day at a time."

"That will do just fine."

"Always got to have the last word," she snarks.

"No that would be you."

She pushes him onto the bed and straddles him. "Shut up Doofus."

* * *

"Whew!" Marshall eyes are closed as he rolls over, pulling the sheet off the woman next to him. Lying on her stomach Mary lifts up on her elbows, surveying her handiwork – a sweaty sated Marshall.

"Are you happy?"

Marshall puts his forearm over his eyes. "No."

Mary frowns sadly. "I should have known. Sex never fixed anything."

Marshall opens his eyes surveying her sad face. He rolls her over and settles on top of her holding her face between his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. Hair flopping, cheeks pink he declares, "I'm not happy, I'm ecstatic. I'm so happy my happy meter is pinned."

Relieved, Mary pushes her hips into his. "Is that what you call it?"

Marshall laughs. "Only when I'm with you."

Mary stares into his eyes, making sure he really wants her. "Norah is starting to warm to you, but then you bribed her."

"Giving her pony back rides is not a bribe."

Mary rolls her eyes.

Marshall runs his thumbs over her lips. "I love you Mare. You're the yin to my yang." Mary closes her eyes and purses her lips as he continues. "You're the butter to my cup."

"Yeah? And I'm the doughnut to your hot dog," Mary retorts.

"Those don't go together," Marshall complains.

"Oh no?" Mary runs her hand down his chest, dipping low under the sheets.

Marshall's eyes open wide and he laughs. "Or, maybe they do." He nods in agreement. "You realize you are the thorn to my rose."

Mary smirks. "You're the bullet to my gun."

Marshall is just getting started. "You're the sun to my shine. You're the French to my fry."

Mary smacks his chest. "You're the fruit to my loop."

With her lips devouring his, Marshall, has no comeback. Which is just the way Mary likes him.

* * *

A/N: One more chapter to go - a short epilogue.


	24. Epilogue

Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.

* * *

Provoked Too – Chapter 24 – Epilogue

"Be careful, some of those floor boards won't support your weight. Stick to the middle," Mary yells up to the attic as she climbs the ladder. Her soon to be college student is sliding boxes around and coughing from the dust he's stirring up. "What are you looking for?" Her head pokes up surveying the forgotten remnants of their life.

"My glove, my baseball glove. I want to give it to Cary at the Youth Center. He needs one but he told me his mom couldn't afford it."

Mary is proud of her son's volunteer tutoring. He takes care of more than their academics.

"Wouldn't it be in the garage with the sports gear? Why would it be in the attic?"

"I put it in with my oboe. After hearing Dad's story about being forced to choose between baseball and music I thought it belonged there. My two passions, side by side." He looks at his mother, gratefully. "Thank you for never making me choose."

"Oh," she gets it. Now the location of his baseball glove makes perfect sense. Their son had gotten every bit of his father's romantic sentimentality.

"Hey! What's this?"

"What?" She climbs the final rungs carefully setting foot on the flimsy floor.

Nathan is using his sleeve to wipe the dust off a large padded leather folio. He opens it. "Isn't this your maiden name Mom?" He holds the folio open so she can see the gilded calligraphy certificate. "It looks like some sort of award. What does it mean?"

Mary sighs. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing." Marshall's voice rumbles into the opening. He's started climbing up the ladder to see why dust is raining out of the ceiling.

"I'll say. It's pretty awesome. I doubt you got this for nothing, Mom. Why don't you have it framed and hang it with Dad's awards?"

Mary dusts off a box and sits, taking the long hidden folio from her son. "That's not a good idea Nate."

Excited by this revelation of previously unknown family history he asks his parents, "Is it from some sort of secret government program?"

Mary coughs, the dust getting to her. "Something like that."

"Then why would they give you this?"

Marshall's head pops into the attic opening and his booming voice replies. "Because the idiocy of bureaucracy knows no bounds. Uncle Lucas and your sisters are here and dinner's ready. Stop this archeological dig and get cleaned up so we can eat."

"Leave that and c'mere son. Give your old mom a hand."

* * *

A/N: Stay tuned for a new series of one shots – Miraculous Mary. All Mary POV, all the time starting next Saturday. Thanks to everyone who reviewed or read this story, especially Meg and Jojo78.


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